Thirteen Autumns And A Widow

Cradle Of Filth

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

So when She fell

Like a sinner to vice

Under austere, puritanical rule

She sacrificed

Her decorum as chaste

To this wolf of the cloth

Pouncing to haunt

Her confessional box

Forgiven

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