The Spawn of Love and War Cradle of Filth

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Poets racking absinthed brains
Could never fully paint these nights
No martyr parting from his pain
Could utter words so erudite
As those she now divulged to me
In the throes of passion's grip
Indulging latent fantasies
That ran forked tongues along the lip

Of fate's pudenda
The twisted snake's agenda
Now the world would bend
To her deadly legacy

Life's graveyard was waiting, such dizzying flight
From the convent at All Hallows Fair
Without contemplating, we fled through the night
Too blood-drunk and cunt-sated to care

The Goddess had spoken
And awoken desire
It crackled in the air around us
A psychic force shimmering like fire

And on her breasts. that old necklace
The one I snuck from the fucked Abbess
Whose dirty little secret, other than me
Now shone with bold intensity