Lichmistress

Our lady of seven sorrows Mother of mourning, precious lich A white horse found your grave Then it was beheaded The funeral goat's semen Annoints your resting place Far below, the state you're in replenishes My well of loss As things from beyond watch as you rot Beneath me Wretchedly, I pine as I begin at once to claw The earth To free you from the worms, to free you From damnation The stake in your bosom pains me too Wistfully, I gaze into those empty holes Which once were eyes That beheld so much blood, that beheld so Much evil Cyanotic lips caress the cold grey face of One interred Whose flesh is much too frail, whose flesh Begins to quiver Mistress of my flesh Your servant longs for your kiss To hold you once again All pretty with blood Now shall all of heaven weep