Her Majesty

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"The Spirits have all but fled judgement. I rot, alone, insane, where the forest whispers puce laments for me From amidst the pine and wreathed wolfsbane. Beyond these walls, wherein, condemned To the gloom of an austere tomb, I pace with feral madness sent through the pale beams of a guiltless Moon who, bereft of necrologies, thus Commands creation over the earth whilst I resign my lips to death a slow cold kiss that chides rebirth. Though one last wish is bequeathed by fate. My beauty shalt wilt, unseen Save for twin black eyes that shalt come to take my soul to peace or Hell for company...My soul to Hell for company."

Cradle of Filth, Bathory Aria

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