Lady in her fortress
Hiding a pulsating abscess
Voiceless squirming corpses
Sewn in the pleats of her dresses
Rabid souls shrieking
Wrung in her kohl, they sing
A lament from beyond
Her lips betraying all she conned
Seeping from her lashes blonde
Tears from the bottomless pond
And down from her perfect neck
The bourgeois's triple sec
Bitten, pecked and licked by many
Her sternum nestling the skeleton key
Further down her navel
Felled many an angel
Oh, but she's deaf
Oblivious to Seth
Stealing her every breath
As she gets closer to Death
No barriers left to transgress
No more murders to acquiesce
Time to profess
She's a harpy, not a goddess
