The Dying Tomes

Her soul devoid of ruin
Upon palatial woes
Embracing dark reveries
To mutter sweet repose

Damn the vigil swaying
Cut down from culling sword
A demise invictus reckoned
Death breeds with sullen whore

Bleeding darkened fantasia
Stolen from her womb
Parasites and eurodites
Come lapping at the wound

Lost within translation
Temptation fathered droves
Of crimson eyed lost acolytes
Gathered in concert, doomed

Will snuff the light
So burning bright
Above the lowly shore
Alone in spite she spawns delight within the dying lore