Cradle of Filth - Her Ghost in The Fog

The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait, soft winds whisper the bidding of trees. As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart, and the Midnightmare trampling of dreams. But on, no tears please, Fear and pain may accompany Death. But it is desire that shepherds it's certainty as We shall see... ~ She was divinity's creature that kissed in cold mirrors, A Queen of Snow. Far beyond compare, Lips attuned to symmetry, Sought Her everywhere, Dark liqoured eyes, An Arabian nightmare... She shone on watercolours Of my pondlife as pearl, Until those who couldn't have Her Cut Her free of this World. That fateful Eve when... The trees stank of sunset and camphor, Their lanterns chased phantoms and threw An imquisitive glance, like the shadows they cast On my love picking rue by the light of the moon. Putting reason to flight, Or to death as their way. They crept through woods mesmerized By the taffeta Ley Of Her hips that held sway Over all they surveyed Save a mist on the rise (A deadly blessing to hide) Her ghost in the fog. They raped left... (Five men of God) ...Her ghost in the fog. Dawn discovered Her there, Beneath the Cedar's stare, Silk dress torn, Her raven hair Flown to gown Her beauty bared Was starred with frost, I knew Her lost. I wept 'til tears crept back to prayer. She'd sworn Me vows in fragrant blood "Never to part Lest jealous Heaven stole our hearts" Then this I screamed: "Come back to Me I was born in love with thee So why should fate stand inbetween?" And as I drowned Her gentle curves With dreams unsaid and final words I espied a gleam trodden to earth The Church bell tower key... The village mourned her by the by For She'd been a witch their Men had longed to try. And I broke under Christ seeking guilty signs My tortured soul on ice. A Queen of snow Far beyond compare Lips attuned to symmetry Sought Her everywhere Trappistine eyes An Arabian nightmare... She was Ersulie possessed Of a milky white skin. My porcelain Yin. A graceful Angel of Sin. And so for Her... The breeze stank of sunset and camphor. My lantern chased Her phantom and blew Their Chapel ablaze and all locked in to a pain. Best reserved for judgement that their bible construed... Putting reason to flight. Or to flame unashamed. I swept form cries, Mesmerized By the taffeta Ley Or Her hips that held sway Over all those at bay. Save a mist on the rise. A final blessing to hide. Her ghost in the fog. And I embraced Where lovers rot... Her ghost in the fog. Her ghost in the fog.

Tags:

AFImonkey12 Ghost dark goth satanic

Rate this picture:

• Create an Ecard

Short Link to this page:

• Report Bad Content