Gothical churches with silver crosses

in there lies rubies and a dead hostess

mourning and crying stifled by candles

Pass through the ebony door and see...

See what I have seen

What have I seen painted in the stained glass windows?

What did I see? What do I continually see?

It was a rush of madness.

She was there

It was her

I swear she beckoned to me

saying rather charmly

"A toast to thee".

A velventeen dress that pulsed sickly

Flashing a smile that shamed meekly

She raped my body and soul

taking all of my lust and teeth...

She made me feel alive

How did she make me feel alive through vanity?

What did I feel? Have I lost the chance to feel?

I had sold my soul to her.

My greed was twisted

I was wrongly used

I swear she tempted me

saying rather charmly

"A toast to thee".

Denying my freedom and obsession for her

she fed me blue blood to be her lover

Ripping and tearing and devouring my flesh

Raking with her exquisite, sharp nails...

I know I can't be saved

Can I be saved from the seductress at all?

Is it too late? Was I already doomed?

More blood poured out.

She was it

It was her

I swear she seduced me

Saying rather charmly

"A toast to thee"