Thy mighty Words, Vampyric Mater,

Queen of the Undead, still evoke my Mind



"Soon my Enchantress shall be Seraphim

to my Throne, built of Immortality"



As Spy in Darkness I see the weak Creature

break the Shadows falling on Her Grave

My Bloodthirst is of the Wolves,

who gather - what Pride - to an impressive Parade

The Purity of the Wintermoon

strengthens me whilst Vengeance is mine

My hunting Fangs - his Mirror of mortal Decay

His Blood drips down like the Grains in Reaper's Sandglass

...the once naked Flowers dress!

Ecstatic Love or bitter Tragedy?

Out of a whirling Storm my Bride ascends



"Thou were mine, Thou art mine

and Thou shall be mine throughout all Eternities!"

Now I touch Thy marble Breasts, shall enchant Thy secret Garden

and drown in the Lakes of Thy ("my") Beauty



"So reunite with me and feel the Passion

Thou get crowned with through my Vampyre Kiss..."