Spawned wanton like blight on an auspicious night
Her eyes betrayed spells of the moon’s eerie light
A disquieting gaze forever ghosting far seas
Bled white and dead, Her true mother was fed
To the ravenous wolves that the elements led
From crag-jagged mountains that seemingly grew in unease
Through the maw of the woods, a black carriage was drawn
Flanked by barbed lightning that hissed of the storm
(Gilded in crests of Carpathian breed)
Bringing slaves to the sodomite for the new-born
On that eve when the Countess’ own came deformed
A tragedy crept to the name Bathory
Elizabeth christened, no paler a rose
Grew so dark as this sylph
None more cold in repose
Yet Her beauty spun webs
Round hearts a glance would betroth
She feared the light
So when She fell like a sinner to vice
Under austere, puritanical rule
She sacrificed…
Mandragora like virgins to rats in the wall
But after whipangels licked prisoners, thralled
Never were Her dreams so maniacally cruel
(And possessed of such delights)
For ravens winged Her nightly flights
Of erotica
Half spurned from the pulpit
Torments to occur
Half learnt from the cabal of demons
In Her
Her walk went to voodoo
To see Her own shadow adored
At mass without flaw
Though inwards She abhored
Not Her coven of suitors
But the stare of their Lord
«I must avert mine eyes to hymns
For His gaze brings dogmas to my skin
He knows that I dreamt of carnal rites
With Him undead for three long nights»
Elizabeth listened
No sermons intoned
Dragged such guilt to Her door
Tombed Her soul with such stone
For She swore the Priest sighed
When She knelt down to atone…
She feared the light