Pale as the furthest star
born from enchanted arms
the howling that chilled the flowing air
let the wet kiss burn deeper yet
like gold from the little man’s wheel
she twirled in her chamber sealed
clinging to her last free will
awaiting the call of the bravest knight
long for seduction bathed in cold sweat
arms of the clock work hadn’t come yet
for her time was enslaved by the chantress tight hands
Dead on the chamber floor
Her heart beat raced for more
perished before touching of man
eternity silent, like the brevity of life
one second born to one second die
Screaming October rides for her hand
the black steed nostril stench fogs up the land
Maiden I come for thee on a hour far late
as for my absence I shall return with you
In love in our grave
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