The Nun with the Astral Habit Cradle of Filth

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The world was her cloister, the Abbess Duboir
In the convent at All Hallows Fair
A pearl in an oyster she shone like a star
Augmenting her sisterhood's prayers

Her singing touched angels and melted their hearts
Her choirs inspired the search
For the lost Holy Grail, the Benedict Arts
And the best of the Catholic Church

But if one thing
One precious little thing
Would darken this facade
There would be such consequences

Like the night Sister Victoria
Stepped in from the freezing cold
No candles would light at Evening Mass

The days passed by without a sigh
But dusk came thick with dread
Intangible, the air was full
Of wanderlust and approaching bloodshed

In truth, the Abbess with her pious whims
Enjoyed the new girl's pain
Proof to the rest that the briars of sin
Entangled all the world in Satan's name