They watch as she emerges forth
The mistress of night reveals herself
Skirting across the stage in red linen
Casting her spell, she ensnares them
Have you not an iota of shame left?
Do you not know thy dwelling place?
A den of thieves could not hold a candle
To this wretched form you bear
You prowl upon the veil of divinity, unashamed
With no reprieve, desecrating this sacred ground
The white of the Lord’s work turns a tainted grey
Your unholy stain spreads, darkening every shade
Even among dark clouds and harrowed moments
You hold back no quota as the last embers fade
As the light fades beneath the six feet of earth
You shamelessly hog the spotlight and take reign
You spare not even the little ones
Minds so bright now wrought by your decay
Turning into unwilling accomplices at your gaze
No more value or virtue, just pawns in the long con
By the time she exits the fractured stage
They are washed-out echoes of former glory
Now with cancerous ruins metastasizing within
Their awe-struck looks now filled with terror of night
Who can stop this wretched reign?
Who can cleanse the stain you have raised?
Who can silence your tainted knights?
And free us from the evil you have wrought?
