Cryptopsy

Our lady of seven sorrows,
Mother of mourning, precious lich...
A white horse found your grave,
Then it was beheaded.
The funeral goat's semen
Annoints your resting place.
Far below, the state you're in replenishes
My well of loss
As things from beyond watch as you rot
Beneath me.
Wretchedly, I pine as I begin at once to claw
The earth
To free you from the worms, to free you
From damnation.
The stake in your bosom pains me too...