Cradle Of Filth

When the sun has wept upon the waveless lake
And the mists steal in with ease
Covened wolves are their eerie dissonant napes
In adoration of the moon and thee
They call as I to thee....
And I will come, as if in dream
My languid, dark and lustrous Malaresian Queen
Of vengeful, ancient breed
Gilded with the pelts of many enemies
Erishkigal, raven-haired
Thy seduction haunts the castle in erotic despair
I can taste thy scent by candlelight
Legs of porcelain traced and laced to their lair
Appease the beast on spattered sheets
Dyed unearthly red as sobriety weeps
Nocternity...
She shall come for me
A black velvet painting sprung to elegant life
Like a poignant Madonna perverted to night
And I have ridden from the westerning light
To expend my lust
Tear away the funereal dress
Know that I will escape from my death
Surrendered to the splendour of her sharpened caress
Lo! The pale moonlight
Weaves a poetic spell of vital death and decline
Of mist and moth and the hunger inside
Kisses took to fever and the fever, demise
Through twilight, darkness and moonrise
My scarlet tears will run
As stolen blood and whispered love
Of fantasies undone