Honey And Sulphur

"So potent was the star under which I was born
That I have done no one in the world has done
Nor can ever do"

Praeclarum
Custodem
Ovium
Lupum.

All Saints Day, the taint of rain
Blood and mud and thunder all the same
To those who close their ranks to Gille's men.

Bricqueville, Prelati and De Sille
Creatures of the dark creeping up and down the countryside
Brittle angels out to pasture once again.

Torture garden rules of thumb apply
To sacred flesh and the naked eye
Golgothic this erotica
Stinking of honey and worse, sulphur.

So black was the magic in this tragical kingdom
That the superstitions grew
Wise to the wolves that surprised their children
Gagged in sacks and dragged back to.

Tiffauges
It's roads now home to a beautiful stranger
Lifting her veil
Spinning her lies
Tender eyes, never-ending danger.

It grows
A rose that chose death for it's bedmuck
Prickles in wait
Thanking her spies
Trickling thighs her only hiccup.

And though she walks the forest trails
She's far from innocent or frail
She leads them down the path where darkness dwells.

That night is rife with celebration
The tower sings
Where so much foul illumination
Strikes a lighthouse for the things
That slither and slather at the border of the pentagram
Mid sour dreams
A beauty pageant for the gathering damned
Of slaughtered lambs and tortured screams.

Praeclarum
Custodem
Ovium
Lupum.

Torture garden rules of thumb apply
To sacred flesh and the naked eye
Golgothic this erotica
Stinking of honey and worse, sulphur.

So black was the magic in this tragical kingdom
In this castle of loup-garou
When moonstruck veins, inflamed, deranged on
A parcel of victims now tied to.

Tiffauges
Engorged on the hordes of the anorexic
Cherubim forced
Naked and blind
A holocaust mind designed their exit.

A libertine so grim
Sometimes tore them limb from limb
Slitting their throats
Pissing on graves
Jesus saved but the devil made him.

Praeclarum
Custodem
Ovium
Lupum.