Lichmistress

Our lady of seven sorrows

Mother of mourning, precious lich

A white horse found your grave

Then it was beheaded

The funeral goat's semen

Annoints your resting place

Far below, the state you're in replenishes

My well of loss

As things from beyond watch as you rot

Beneath me

Wretchedly, I pine as I begin at once to claw

The earth

To free you from the worms, to free you

From damnation

The stake in your bosom pains me too

Wistfully, I gaze into those empty holes

Which once were eyes

That beheld so much blood, that beheld so

Much evil

Cyanotic lips caress the cold grey face of

One interred

Whose flesh is much too frail, whose flesh

Begins to quiver

Mistress of my flesh

Your servant longs for your kiss

To hold you once again

All pretty with blood

Now shall all of heaven weep