Lichmistress

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...



Wistfully, I gaze into those empty holes

Which once were eyes

That beheld so much blood, that beheld so

Much evil...

Cyanotic lips caress the cold grey face of

One interred

Whose flesh is much too frail, whose flesh

Begins to quiver.



Mistress of my flesh,

Your servant longs for your kiss,

To hold you once again,

All pretty with blood...



Now shall all of heaven weep.