Arc Gotic Portrait Of A Pale Lass
Time
My blood stained knife
With silver ornaments
Shine your blade and
Stab me in the back
She stands
Beneath the clouds
Smiling, as her eyes caress the sky
Her head falls back
Her breast sighs
My days
Neverending and faint
The nights full of doubt
Old wounds and burdens
So sweet
Come out and sing
Somewhere between
The study and the hall
Her ear pressed to the wall
The enfeebled lass
Stands and listenes
To the tunes
Of her joyfull past
She caresses gently
Her curly hair
Her glance fixed
Upon the ceiling
And starts to sing
