Raven-haired, and of my darkest dreams
Her pale touch is like the Winter's cold.
Like the forest, she obsessed my
soul
...and her grip will not let go.
And in her heart flows immortality,
for she is of Lamia blood.
And through my dreams
she came
to my soul for thy blood (essence) summoned her name.
In rapture I embrace the bliss
of sins of the
flesh
Immortal, I drank from her soul,
from her very veins.
I indulge in the sins of lust.
And the shadows dance, to the
chaos of her trance
As the flames within her showed her fire.
Wicked are her ways, of giving to thee, the ecstasy I desire.
And
Cursed is her Kiss that is forever more
for it's aftertaste is bitterness.