Raven-haired, and of my darkest dreams Her pale touch is like the Winter's cold. Like the forest, she obsessed my soul ... and her grip will not let go.
And in her heart flows immortality, for she is of Lamia blood. And through my dreams she came to my soul for thy blood (essence) summoned her name.
In rapture I embrace the bliss of sins of the flesh Immortal, I drank from her soul, from her very veins.
I indulge in the sins of lust. And the shadows dance, to the chaos of her trance As the flames within her showed her fire. Wicked are her ways, of giving to thee, the ecstasy I desire. And Cursed is her Kiss that is forever more for it's aftertaste is bitterness.
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