Darkly, Darkly, Venus Aversa Lyrics Album by Cradle of Filth
Welcome to the best site to read Darkly, Darkly, Venus Aversa Lyrics, This Album was released on the year 2010 by the band Cradle of Filth
Album Lyrics
1. The Cult of Venus Aversa
“I am she, Lilith!
Mistress of the dark of Sheba,
first offender, and succour to demons.
Whose sweet seductions and wicked rites
lead all those too enslaved by the flesh
to trespass against God’s holy law.
And tonight I come for you…”
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter,
muttering their reeking spells.
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter,
these words I speak are gates to Hell.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
Veritas vos liberabit.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
In aeturnum, amen.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
Veritas vos liberabit.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
In aeturnum, amen.
The scent of Death is rent
in this ornamental verse.
It ventures down the centuries,
tormenting me with secrets so anathema.
And now the fires grate,
I must relate to end this curse.
I’ll break through spires to escape my fate,
Am I too late or just perverse?
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter,
muttering their reeking spells.
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter,
these words I speak are gates to Hell.
So the blight begins near the
woodland of a frightened village
where the rites of unimaginable sin,
and the howling on the wind chills
the blood for fear of spillage.
Where nightfall used to be
blessed with best tranquility,
its now caressed by misadventure.
Templars cursed from the crusades
have birthed a church, more masquerade
in which they worship mass dementia.
They came from dust and flame
by the Red Sea on dead shores,
fleeing claims of blasphemy
and bestiality.
Devils fed them back to us!
Knights of holy wars inviting
hordes of grim infidelities,
in the grip of cryptic lands and
desert sands they found just cause.
And midst their entourage under the stars
they brought relics and parts of saints,
and evil left to clerics charge.
With Muslim plunder they built their
sect to the composite Baphomet.
An androgynous sphinx, open, erect,
universal in its closet display.
Spawn of Lilith and Samael,
first offender and the snake.
In thrall like pawns beneath its spell
the Templars grew to astute surrender.
Sabbatical, fanatical
they adorned its monstrous bust
with a king’s ransom of Eastern jewels,
the embodiment of beast and lust.
Many moons then proved the boon
of immutable and beautiful
darkness ever-afters.
Then one eve when the ancient trees
outside drew back unnerved,
the pleas from those impatient teased
something from the black beyond of nowhere.
A stunning woman summoned,
coming scimitar-curved.
Statuesque but living flesh
draping nakedness about their
pagan saviour.
She came Lilith,
a perfect myth,
The scarlet whore.
Skinned in magnificence,
in her defence she only
slew a few of them.
Born of a sacrifice, a virgin’s price
for the merging with a Goddess.
She prowled the world again,
enslaving men with the surging of her bodice.
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter,
muttering their reeking spells.
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter,
these words I speak are gates to Hell.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
Veritas vos liberabit.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
In aeturnum, amen.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
Veritas vos liberabit.
Casus belli,
in hoc signo vinces.
In aeturnum, amen.
2. One Foul Step from the Abyss
The Feast of Fools, 1308.
As January slipped into the grip of winter
a leather leash tightened round the throat of fate.
Amidst the flock, disease and dementia,
night was blighted more than ever before
with screams of lust and obscene adventure,
and scenes of raw debauch.
The darkness was aroused with every kiss,
and all who fell under it’s spell
were one foul step from the abyss.
One foul step from the abyss…
One foul step!
Scared villagers there in All Hallows Fair
feared the templars and their Queen.
For Lilith compared to a royal nightmare
when she steered their tempestuous fever-dreams.
The beast was loose and beauty party
to the horrors of this sonorous whore.
A seducer, Medusa, a frozen Hecate cloned!
Stealing seed, her needs were like a cancer,
growing stronger with each whimpering dog.
Knelt before her, thirteen necromancers called
from desert sands to this land of opportunity.
The darkness was aroused with every kiss,
and all who fell under its spell
were one foul step from the abyss.
One foul step from the abyss…
One foul step!
Love was drugged by a copious vendor,
a train of servants for her decadent games.
Purring on rugs in fugs of opiate splendour,
vain Lilith spread her wings again.
Stars they gasped and comets in ovation
lit the towers, their very presence declared.
They watch with lust, despair and veneration
for the Goddess seated naked there.
The painted eye of the storm!
Plagues of sin, played to win
all hearts and souls in thrall.
To her embrace, her fatal whims,
desire meant to conquer all.
Until that fateful day, 1308,
with a force blessed by the Kings of Hate.
Facing winter gray to disintegrate
once noble halls.
The villagers in a belligerent horde,
fraught daughters fanning flames
rose like pillars for their militant Lord,
thoughts of slaughter haranguing hot veins!
They assailed the fort beyond the woods,
as the howling broke on the stroke of midnight
many lost their sanity at what they fought.
Amidst those walls, the creed of dementia
annihilated by sheer weight of the surge.
Put to the sword, freed from their calenture,
the great estate was given straight to the church.
Of Lilith, no limb ranked amongst the dead,
but that she drank the blood of many men
that dark night it was said.
3. The Nun with the Astral Habit
The world was her cloister, the Abess Duboir
in the convent at All Hallows fair.
A pearl in an oyster, she shone like a star,
augmenting her sisterhoods 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.
Victoria Varco, once an heiress to a
proud noble estate, fell pregnant
by her recklessness who then fell
foul to a violent fate.
Such was her crime in expedient times,
and the shame of besmirching her name.
Her child was burnt, she was dragged to
these walls for a life in obedient chains.
But not one thing,
one precious little thing
would darken this facade.
Like the night Sister Victoria
woke screaming in her room,
she spent a week spiralling
from Heaven.
And as the seasons wheezed and pined
her dreams grew more perverse, for no good
reasons she would find an alluring woman
naked save for jewels and verse.
When here eyelids closed, on a moonlit shore
this intoxicating beauty would appear.
The sweetest symphony composed those abating
lips rose to whisper dirty secrets in her ear.
“Clandestine secrets!”
A dream within a dream
she finds herself this nymph
abreast a desert dune,
and below the crescent moon
atop a darksome stranger.
Ah, the spurting of his seed
inside her triggers paradise,
she rides the beast until
the Heavens tremble.
Forcing eclipse,
her lover licks her blood
that drips upon the sand,
and almost out of hand
coarse plots assemble.
For somewhere in the convent walls
a templar treasure rests,
forgotten to the vestibules
like pleasures of the flesh.
So in return for nightly runs,
past tongues and wisdom’s hiss,
she promised to assist the hunt
for an ancient golden chain amiss.
4. Retreat of the Sacred Heart
She slept in ecstasy in hands
that fanned her wildest fantasies,
freed from Christ’s frigid regime
and rigid nails.
She was first in church to
lick her lips and self-debase,
each waking second felt like Heaven
in the scarlet one’s embrace.
And at last, clear memories, aghast
relinquished their control,
all things held dear to the wretched
past coalesced within her soul.
Madness crept into her sight
though her sinful gait spoke
of nothing to the contrary.
Once-dulled eyes
leapt alive with life
her piece of broken mirror
barely recognised.
The worm was turning!
For here sat grinning Victoria who,
no three weeks ago was flogged
red to euphoria for her dour love
of God and the ardour of his crows.
Cold cloisters kept the dead apart
at the retreat of the sacred heart!
She stepped in ecstasy ‘neath skies
that plied her wildest fantasies,
freed into Love’s reacquainted
dream and sudden gales.
Nights grew sultry late September,
a man came from the village through
the woods to help with harvest.
She was burning like the fields,
all her vows lay unfulfilled.
His name was Isaac, silent, blessed,
a mute whose tongue impressed her lately.
But now red skies darken
the roonks lament,
windswept maelstroms harken
the approach of Lilith’s
Nightmare Kingdom!
The woman in her astral dreams
became more vivid, livid, obscene.
Seated on the throne of onyx blasphemies,
emanating raw desire and the
surging urge to scream.
Darkness crept into her face,
she stood erect and spoke of
riches and their whereabouts.
Finding in Isaac the need to
place a hidden Templar necklace
lest the month run out.
For now stormed the vainglorious
in her palace of mass delights.
Her power dawned victorious,
Victoria the key, her mind unfastened.
By flights of morbid fancy
psychomancy, rites of ancient wrong.
Sweet seductions, peaked eruptions
spiking through impatient song.
Cold cloisters kept the dead apart
at the retreat of the sacred heart!
The Gate to Hell was forced apart
at the retreat of the sacred heart!
5. The Persecution Song
At the very start
there were whispers in the dark,
and for all the world to see
there was witchcraft at its heart.
And on the autumn air
the scent of bonfires everywhere,
and a fell wind stirred the leaves.
The persecution song!
Telltale signs of possession,
little Miss Demeanour in
the demon’s bed.
Gasps she just could not suppress
after lights-out midst the dead,
and a past on which sin cast
its darts of wickedness.
Time was running faster for disaster,
strange nights were burning
in the furnace of her dreams.
A name was uttered, Lilith,
mistress, playmate, master,
Such sights were stolen in
the throes of ecstasy.
And in the thick of all,
in the Black Goddess’s thrall,
with the wood unseen for trees
Victoria stood tall.
Promiscuous in step the
Devil breathing down her neck,
as jealous zealots stitched apiece
the persecution song.
Telltale signs of possession,
fickle Miss Demeanour hissed
and disappeared.
To her Sisters of the cloth
she now reeked of Astaroth,
again the curse had surfaced
sneaking back the pagan years.
Weaving webs of great revealing!
Hidden in the convent an evil
libido abided, undone.
Breathing, deceiving,
feasting on her deviant feelings
she’d clung to her crucifix
once her torturers begun.
Her screams came quick,
the miserichord, den to vice and screw
that had reddened many tongues
wrung symphonies of suffering from her.
Many moons hardened pure hearts,
those plagued by her black arts.
Their rooms secreting phantom orgies,
vile rites and rifled graves.
Mere hours, now towered above
this bent and beaten flower.
Her naked body privy to the
Abbess and her ways.
Victoria fought, no guilt was wrought
just a torrid retort of blasphemies.
Nails and crosses vomited forth from this
pretty little whore now arched like Hell.
Arched like Hell!
At the very start
there were whispers in the dark,
and for all the world to see
there was witchcraft at its heart.
But then the end grew nigh
a dirge inferno filled the sky
In its customary key,
the persecution song.
Telltale signs of obsession,
no wailing banshee would
dishonour their name.
Nuns dragged her to the blasted oak,
storm-clouds threatened holy smoke.
They hanged her there like Judas
with the Hellcat in her reined.
Time was running faster for disaster.
Exorcism, torture, gallows
now a shallow grave.
A name was stuttered, Isaac,
tongue-tied, simple, bastard.
They made him dig the pit,
mindless of what it claimed.
6. Deceiving Eyes
On the night all mirrors fell silent,
and the clocks struck accord with the rain.
A storm swept in with such violence,
the dead rose to complain.
The stars were ill-crossed as
the weather, lost in its bitumen cloak.
The Angels were warring, slick with endeavour,
falling like tears through the thickening smoke.
Blood redeems,
Heaven torn asunder.
A flood of souls scream
on the rolling thunder.
Blood redeems,
Heaven torn asunder.
She stirs from dreams
barely three feet under.
“Victoria, I come to claim my prize!
Stealing from the convent ‘neath
the wrath of seething skies.
For though you greased the palm of Satan
With those moonlit silver thighs,
I knew the beast took second place
When I looked into your eyes.
Your deceiving eyes filled
with lies and missed good byes,
and serpents hissing revelations.
Your deceiving eyes,
they tell enough of how I
fell in love with the Goddess
creeping deep inside you.”
And with the tumult
up above him roaring
Isaac sought her shallow grave.
As lightning bolted through
the grim down-pouring rain,
he struck the hallowed earth again.
Having torn at the
soil like a man insane
he threw his fists at
the poisonous cosmos.
And from that pit of shame he bore
the coffin from her sorry lot ‘neath trees
whose eaves were knotted with rot.
Through ornate chapel doors,
unlocked to splinter her sarcophagus
and gaze upon her face.
Victoria…
“Victoria, I come to claim my prize!
Stealing from the convent ‘neath
the wrath of seething skies.
For though you greased the palm of Satan
With those moonlit silver thighs,
making mockery of rosaries
his needs will never rival mine.
I recall a summer’s day, the sunlight
bathed your penitential scars as
I sat and washed the blood away.
Now your body stays,
and the coldness of your lips
eclipse like the first
true kiss of winter.”
Pining for the dead on the stone floor spread
she was shining through her winding shroud.
A moon amid the mad, this son of Adam had
a gift for the pretty young nun.
A necklace
wrought of twining snakes,
two gold illicit tongues.
He laid it at her throat
where the rope had wrung,
he was burning from the
furnace of his roused desire.
He wrested with temptation
to be or unfulfilled.
She was undressed for ovation,
her sumptuous form the storm revealed.
And with his driven lust exploding
her lashes brushed his cheeks.
They flickered with life,
her limbs enfolding.
Purring, licking wicked teeth!
“Victoria, I come to claim my prize!
Stealing from the convent ‘neath
the wrath of seething skies.
For though you greased the palm of Satan
With those moonlit silver thighs.
You have left him just for me,
I see it in deceiving eyes.
Those deceiving eyes filled
with lies and missed good byes,
and serpents hissing revelations.
Those deceiving eyes,
they tell enough of how I
fell in love with the Goddess
re-arisen in you.”
7. Lilith Immaculate
Church bells resounded like judgement day as
they were making love in the rainswept graveyard.
She fucked him hard, silhouetted by flame,
a monsoon Tigress set upon prey.
“Fall for the love of me,
crawl for the love of me,
drool for the love of
my virulent sway.
I grow more master
the faster the days.
Lilith Immaculate!”
This delectable reaper,
her eyes were profound,
drawing him in deeper
until he was drowned.
Hurled on the shore of
the world underground.
Lilith Immaculate!
Mortal kind, a morbid wine
for this Dark Moon Goddess,
and freed to stretch her claws.
This beautiful whore would
be brutally honest.
Tortuous one, taboos undone,
a glittering star on a sea of myriad waves.
And a thickening mist, a seductress
leading lovesick hearts astray.
Lilith!
In the throes of orgasm she bucked and he broke
at the height of the storm, the chaos they’d smote.
Burning behind her in arabesque smoke framed a vision
transformed as she sucked from his throat.
Victoria smiled, her now golden eyes possessed
a regal bearing of omnipotent power.
From wet lips to her smouldering thighs
her beauty perfected and her will agonised.
“Fall for the love of me,
crawl for the love of me,
drool for the love of
my virulent sway.
I grow more master
the faster the days.
Lilith Immaculate!”
With dread single purpose
her mind told him stay.
She strode through the fire,
desire aflame.
She murdered the nuns
in such horrible ways.
Lilith Immaculate!
“That night we lay entwined
on hay inside a soldier’s barn.
Her panting breath an opiate,
as in her bolder grasp…
I caught the scent of desert sands,
The Holy lands, the fall of reason.
But only when I smelt the blood
did I fear her colder hand.”
“I am darkness, I am sin,
the Queen of Lust invited in.
Reborn at last to cast my
fecund shadow on this world.
You shall worship me, enslaved!
For many lovers shall I crave,
and in return I’ll gladly pave
your psycho path with pearls.
For I have been grating,
and waiting so long to find
the most perfect hostess close to me
whose thin-ice troubled mind…
Was like a cracked, black ornate mirror
to slip right through in time,
when at last I wore Harmonia’s necklace
the cursed twin serpents mine.”
Tortuous one, debauchery won the
attention of Emperors, Princes and Tsars.
For the toll of her kiss, no soul could dismiss
the advance of her throne from afar.
This English rose with traits of those
who graced the harems of the East.
Adorned with thorns, she raised the horns,
and scarlet hems to wasted priests.
“Fall for the love of me,
crawl for the love of me,
drool for the love of
my virulent sway.
I grow more master
the faster the days.
Lilith Immaculate!”
This delectable reaper,
her eyes were profound,
they drew him in deeper
until he was drowned.
Hurled on the shore
of the world underground.
Lilith Immaculate!
“Fall for the love of me,
crawl for the love of me,
drool for the love of
my virulent sway.
I grow more master
the faster the days.
Lilith Immaculate!”
The flutes and sweet wine
of her voice anodyne,
her power was growing
every hour malign.
The truth, Lilith’s Kingdom
drew closer with time!
Lilith Immaculate!
8. The Spawn of Love and War
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 passions grip,
indulging latent fantasies that
ran forked tongues along the lip.
Of fate’s pudenda,
the twisted snake’s agenta.
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.
Vast the power it possessed,
the darkness brought
to living flesh.
This treasure was ancient,
taken by force from an elite
caste of priests in Delphi.
The Templars were patient,
they stayed out the course
then fleeced their Greek
hosts in their sleep.
That necklace traversed
vile murders and miles worse
but what was a curse to
this perverse Demoness?
Legend swore it was a gift of
malice for the maiden Harmonia,
the illegitimate spawn of love and war
jealousy made it gleam for her.
For with it clasped, her looking glass
was ever beautiful and young.
But disaster choked her royal caste
and every throat on which it hung
there madness, death and horror clung.
Immortalised in mortal guise
she was a sight for blighted eyes,
a plague to gladly plagiarise
and spread like red excited kisses.
She was more than me, more than words
could fulfil in the parlance of the Angels.
She cast a spell on every cell in my nobody,
she gave me back my tongue that she
might run it on herself.
She was Lilith, she was light,
I was but a parasite beckoned to
temptation in her velvet overtones.
Through frozen arches, dressed in white
she led me into paradise ‘neath comets in
ovation like the Queen of Winter, throned.
Pleasures archetypal
then much rarer agonies,
I was a sworn disciple of her
whims and dark decrees.
In Europe’s hair
her spies were everywhere,
a sylph amongst the filthy
rich and debonair.
Her greater plan,
all chaos and the fall of man,
for as she fed dark appetites
she bred her children there.
The spawn of love and war!
Presiding over Hellfire clubs,
Arch-masons and Agharta.
The spawn of love and war!
She rode the beast, her legs apart,
a blazing pyre starter.
Life’s playground elated, such dizzying
sights and sensations ignited her grin,
as slaves celebrated her Satanic rites
we climbed up to Heaven in sin.
She came to me as she will come to you!
Intoxicating in her seduction
her siren sway, devastating Voodoo.
Voodoo…
Persistent, resistance is useless,
fool to this Goddess, in lust she’s cruel.
Beyond any measure her pleasures will found
a perverted Eden on sacred ground.
Vast the power I caressed,
the darkness brought to vivid flesh.
And in it she now rules
a cowered universe.
9. Harlot on a Pedestal
Where does the madness end,
how far down do the rungs expire?
In smoke and burning heat,
in depravity and sin?
In her shocking retinue
I saw the worst,
desire run amok amongst you.
And in her boudoir too
the endless nights embedded
in her beautiful cocoon
turning black and blue and jaded.
Kneeling at her feet my heart
atrophied at her ravishing form.
The ultimate test, her cult obsessed,
with this body of the Goddess reborn.
When she first laid me to rest
I saw such sights of wickedness,
from this harlot on a pedestal
this scarlet woman scorned.
I glimpsed desertion, the bluster of shame,
the tribes of the moon, their lustre improved.
A morbid aversion to the limpid domain of
Eden and Adam her dark temper moved.
I witnessed reverie then
perverse resurgence, souls on fire.
Blood and seed spilt for centuries
for this imperious bitch.
In her shocking retinue
I saw the worst,
desire run amok amongst you.
A gnawer of taboo,
dread appetites were threaded.
Right throughout the mortal zoo
her immortality now hungered.
I remember, in Thebes
enthroned with cat-skinned girls
her long dark hair braided with pearls.
A red gown split revealed her thighs
as full lips rose to feline eyes.
Egyptian black outlined each lid,
it’s clear who owned the pyramid.
Temptress Lilith!
Her beauty stirred me more
than words could ever paint,
her bible hurt.
Tempered Lilith!
Hissing in the dark,
pissing on my heart,
I was missing every
part of Victoria.
Victoria!
I found them hypnotic, the years of display,
of court life and parties, political bite.
Narcotic, erotic, her bleary soirees left
daylight a dream in the scheme of the night.
The scheme of the night!
But I grew uneasy, she wanted the Earth,
for now she was spinning her sins.
Breeding fell children and biding her worth
before the new orders disorder begins.
Feeding from the weak,
savaged on their feet
by her ravaging lust.
Evening-dressed
this young Countess
led lovers astray under
cover of dusk.
When she took them to her breast
they passed last rites, deliciousness.
Swept into their every pore this
matriarch of darkness bored.
Harlot on a pedestal,
the night orchestral.
Harlot on a pedestal,
never vestal.
10. Forgive Me Father (I Have Sinned)
Forgive me Father, I have sinned!
Darkness put her painted claws in again.
Her vision drowns like service wine,
whispered kisses so divine.
I was blessed but now I’ve come undone!
Storm clouds roll out
overhead above their master.
End of all flesh, end of all days!
Love predicts disaster in
her precious ways.
I was burned, a sacerdotal soul
by the Demon Queen of my dreams.
Infatuation turned to total control,
her rose was sweet but her
thorns were barbarous.
“Love me and worship me!
I’ll lavish you and ravish you,
fulfil all wishes and fetishes too.
Many never want to see,
many never want to know the
truth behind their fantasies.
Their deepest needs,
let alone be shown them.”
Forgive me Father, I have sinned!
Darkness put her painted claws in again.
Her vision drowns like service wine,
whispered kisses so divine.
I was blessed but
now I’ve come undone,
nothing left to do but run!
Sodom rolls out modern
Death on casters ever faster.
End of all flesh, end of all days!
The stars predict disaster
in her bastard ways.
“Love me and worship me!
I’ll nurture you and hurt you too,
fulfill all wishes for my sad Aladdin.”
She comes to me like a
sandstorm in an hourglass,
a whirlwind of desire.
I’m hypnotised to think
beyond the pale, beyond
heart-stopping eyes, and
sopping thighs.
I’m won’t to fail!
A wicked spell cast over me,
addicted to her utterly despite
the horrors that gestate
beneath the beautiful.
“I’ll grant you life beyond your ken,
the envy of all other men,
whatever vice will make you spend
Eternity with me.”
Satan’s concubine,
she makes her crime scenes
shine from Heaven.
Forgive me Father, I have sinned!
Darkness put her painted claws in again.
Her vision drowns like service wine,
whispered kisses so divine.
I was blessed but now I’ve come undone!
11. Beyond Eleventh Hour
“All mirrors lead to my palace,
my exotic pleasure temple wherein my
court is both gracious and insatiable,
pure and obscene.
For where pumps the true heart of
life, there too seeps corruption.
And from this my new Eden of nightshades,
black henbane, sphinxes, opium and roses weaned
on tears and blood will rise up like lust.
And the shadow of my dark consort
shalt extend himself across the
face of the world…
And Hell will come with Him!”
Part of the garden, her dark Eden
fed blood by poisoned fronds.
My heart hardened in her wet season
treading mud in her slough of despond.
But only now a path lies
straight before me, the maze is
ploughed half through with hate
and her crop is dripping red.
Beyond eleventh hour!
Her beauty and brute power
grows stronger by the day,
and with each rose that she deflowers
the longer her throes of madness stay.
In her grip on shredded sheets,
once our fingertips had dug and clutched
she whispered dreadful things to me.
She wanted war with God,
the underdog baring sharpened teeth.
With her armies raised from suffering
to ascend on jet black wings.
She’d break off holy limbs
on the racks of her witch hunt,
and crush the church beneath her heel
the Pope in homage to her cunt.
A dark horse forcing nightmares
to wring submissives dry,
a vampire madam batterfang
with vicious streaks a mile wide.
Beyond eleventh hour!
Her kiss has turned dismissive,
her glance holds slight contempt.
Instead those eyes burn on the prize
of fates she really likes to tempt.
In her grip on shredded sheets,
gasping from conquered peaks of passion
she whispered dreadful things to me.
She wanted war with God,
the underdog baring sharpened teeth.
With her armies raised from suffering
to ascend on jet black wings.
She’d tear down mighty spires
then rear them up anew,
orders forged to her desires
the eleventh hour nearly through.
Lilith, the abyss, the slithering mists
that cause all souls to stray.
How to resist those seductive gifts
on the shore of her unholy ways?
She calls my name so softly
from deep banks of scented fog,
I almost lose myself before it starts.
But my spirit keeps its silence
as I drift across the lake,
a glimpse of harem secrets
now her velvet curtain parts.
She is glaring like the moon!
The wind dies down, eaves dropping
as I bow before her throne,
and she descends to greet me like
the royal bitch to which she’s grown.
“Come closer,
what have you to say?
Black cat got your tongue?”
“I am not your slave
nor are you my saviour!”
“But Isaac, I’m the only one!”
I hold those cold deceiving eyes,
her once hypnotic gaze,
and pledge eternal love
then walk away.
Thunder seethes behind me,
Death adjusts her favourite mask.
Another lover smothered by
her sanguinary darkness.
Clasped in the garden, here you heard
this story blustered through.
I asked her pardon, swore my word,
I’d score her sweetmeats just like you.
For only now the truth lies
prone before me, I couldn’t leave her
even if she stormed the Heavens
as were promised.
Beyond eleventh hour!
Lilith, the abyss, the slithering mists
will come for you this eve.
Lustrous the cusp of her lingering tryst
before those fatal kisses bleed.
Beyond eleventh hour!
She will make of you a plaything,
scant amusement for her bed,
and when naked flesh forgets to sing
she’ll take your fucking soul instead.
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter,
muttering their reeking spells.
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter,
these words I speak are gates to Hell.
Darkly, Darkly, Venus Aversa Sample – Youtube Video
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