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Miss Morningstar

Forests, they whisper of the impending doom
As winter slowly but surely secures its grasp
When the mistress weaves webs of necromancy
Into this decrepit world comes spells from the past

She awakens, bedeviled with voices in her head
Lamenting their torments, the sweet song of the dead

Seraphim tremble at her passing

Those bad little children are told stories about her
When sleep comes too late, with the black cat haunting purrs

Wiggling tongues split like a serpent’s

She grooms by the candle’s gloom
Spider webs drape her face like a veil
And soon the corpses stir under the moon
Promising the splendors of Hell

Midnightmare denizens creep without
Any desire but to eat
Madness reaching from the bleeding mouth
Moist but cold, eager for the meat

Her eyes, they stare at me from the deep abyss
As pure as the first fallen snow and glazed with frost
She promises peaceful winters drenched in blood
A serene picture at such a heavy cost

She awakens, disheveled from her lasting slumber
So ravenous for fresh meat to sate her hunger

Innocents tremble at her passing

Christian values hold no value for one such as she
Demonic entities graciously crown her Queen

Raven-haired beauty in black leather

Pounded in the Earth
Are gargoyles on a perch
Standing sentinel
For those long since dead
Crosses mingle on the mossy ground
Always to the haunted sounds
Of clueless men
Losing their heads

The longing of libertines
And the preaching of philistines
Defining a godless age
In forbidden rhymes


Her frosted breath in the air
A deathly threat still unaware
The wild woods know she’s coming
With the sound of the trumpets
And the cold-cut carats
We greet her with fanfare

Wicked little snake
With a blood thirst to slake
In man’s lonely dreams
Twisting and grinding
In between the sheets soaked through with blood
To the sound of pounding drums
The beating hearts
Mournfully sing

She swoons there beneath the moon
Her eyes are pitch black inside the veil
The scent of cloves are mixed with tombs
At last, Arise! The Queen of Hell!

Deep in Moria
Phantasmagoria
Rise like a demon
In shadow and flame
Red-slit eyes watching from the abyss
She breaks from her chrysalis
It is your souls
She’s come to claim

So, bow your heads in reverence
She glorious, Miss Morningstar
The evil set to deliver us
Victims wail in woe from afar
Written by HadesRising
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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