The Black Dahlia Murder

Between the lies our dead language tongues
before the dawns our hearts they shall hunt
the smell of blood excites the nostrils
at first cut the sanguinary worship of red
spraying punctures a sight so divine
clutching her carcass face frozen in time
a distorted dialect for the draining of veins
to the flooding of bed sheets with sick crimson rain
a warped diction of scriputres befouled
traditions steeped within disgraces reviled
father unholy one to your night realm we bow
nocturnal majesty sworn to black we'll always be
damnation's diction a deadly disclosure
our poisons in their goblets drip
how perfectly hideous so eloquently scribed
each scripture so skillfully sick