The Crimson Queen

She comes to me at the mid-nightmare passing
Temptress of winter snowfall in black leathers
Within the forest where the snakes are hissing
Among the moonlit trees and dying heathers
Vampiric succubus from homes of the dead
Honey in my ear, I recall what was said:

“You will love me, your Queen of the dead
Worship me, or I will take your head.”

So I rest my head on her frozen bosom
I’m subjugated to her loathsome Sodoms
Her fingers, grasping, from the darkest reaches
Those lips of suction are just like leeches
Entwined arms that offer me no salvation
A barbed tongue lapping at my lacerations

“My crimson queen, my strength starts to wane”
I cried to her, in pleasurable pain

The blood-red candles have burned down to their wicks
Illuminated fantasies born from the sick
Manticore mistress drenched in gorgon’s blood
I break wide open to release the flood
My intestines burst forth, they're gushing out
Into the black void of Lillith’s mouth