Friday, 13 October 2017

Queen of the Black Sabbath

Queen of the Black Sabbath
When the moon is full
And the night gets tough
Icon of your sins
Obscure to demure sacrifice
Crawling underneath your surface
Filing the chalice of every omens
Witch of your white magic
Dark incantations on the altar
A sanctuary for a ritual
Damnation or salvation
Only Hells can ever tell
Cerberus of your endless nightmares
Black widow of your mourning
Your blood dripping from my lips
Sweet ambrosia of my siren song
My eyes sharpened next to your heart
A bite for your Judas’s betrayals
Tasting the bitterness of your prayers
Delightful disharmony of your confessionals
Priest of your holy disgraces
Threading my weave between your scars
Wounds of poison as a remedy
Bless be your sickness growing
Goddess of your unbeliefs
Pagan mascarade for forgiveness
Your mind devoting to my forgetting
Your Virgin Mary undone
Incestuous cherubs on your stained glass windows
Amen my brothers and sisters
Temptress of your hallelujahs
Fallowed Eden of your brambles
Creation belongs to the judgment day

Forever in love with your lust
Our alliance will last
From far along beyond your grave
Your name consuming into the pyre
Unbaptized by the palm of my hand
Desecrated flames of your dying soul
Barbed wires on your forehead
The sign of no crucifixion
But the design of your stigmata
Kneeling before the Evil’s gates
Your pride merging with your insanities
Knocking loud before the light rises
Your wills scattered in the winds
Draped into your last breathes
Can’t you see me coming ?
Queen of the Black Sabbath
When the moon is full
And the night gets rough.

© Gisèle-Luce de Christian-James

Tea-Stained Queen Photograph by Christopher Mark Perez. Model: Fracture



Queen of Darkness by Valkyria-Art

 The Queen pondered the long road of slaughter it had taken to reach this point

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