The Haunting Harlot

A true sick goddess in the moonlight
She stalks admist these woods
She reaks of blood and carnal delight
Just as any whore of the undead should
Adorned in foul leather seduction
Far more tempting than any words
She spreads disease inside corruption
A wicked temptrest vulgar and absurd

A feared master of black magic
She writhes in her own spells
Utterly repulsive and nostalgic
For in her organs satan dwells
Easly bewitching pety mortals
With just a simple sultry moan
She entices erotic deadly chortles
Then ones soul becomes condoned

She has a pleasant torture chamber
Where she fucks one as they die
Then she saves the courpse for later
'Cause she lusts for maggots deep inside
But when she's bored she chains one up
Then carves her victims to the bone
She saves the flesh for she's corrupt
And loves when dolls are stitched and sewn

She is the princess of hells lust
Therefore twisting all sexual desires
Responsible for charming with disgust
She is the mother of all vampires
She radiates gaustly sexual elegance
That no man could ever resist
Than reaps his heart in satanic penance
So that God may know that she exists