Thank God for the Suffering Cradle of Filth

I, I still recall, the first fullmoon of May
‘Neath whose rays we lay together
And those bright nights on glassy waves
When we would glide lightly away
From the grain, for wicked flights of pleasure

Those visions fade like ghosts to life's parade
Though incisions once made Her so vivid
A scarlet whore with both heels in the door
Of a heaven severed from me, insipid

And midst the writhe of parapets
Where angels sigh, lonely she sits
Upon the lip only a slip
From whence I beg Her

That I would wish, her kiss a chrysalis
To break to make my fluttered heart amiss
And in those frozen moments won
From grief that creeps to wreathe the sun
In drapes inwove with deathshead wing
I thank God for the suffering

Love would have conquered all but for the Rapture
That ancient plan for my defeat
Denied Faith skies that would have set Her free
It seems again dreams wend to capture