Sibilant and macabre

Walpurgis sauntered in

Skies litten with five-pointed stars

The work of crafts surpassing sin

As She graced Her window ledge

- An orphaned gypsy nymph

This issue of the forest's bed

Skin flushed with sipped absinthe -

Her eyes revealed, as Brocken's peak

Tried once concealing Hell

A snow white line of divine freaks

In riot, where they fell...



The circus lurches in, a ring of promised delight

For seven days and seven festival nights

What wicked wonders lie within the comfines

Of the panther's den



She watches from a maypole, on the rip of Her tongue

The restless spirit of Christmas to come

A Gretel sick of merely sucking Her thumb

Than gingerbread men



Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial

She was the light of the world going down

War-torn, forlorn and malarial

She was found

Born in a burial gown



Unloosed, the chain of Her god-given cross

Seduced, now pagan ribbons swathe Her repose

In a carnival of souls sold and similarly lost



Too many decades misfit and mislaid

In innocence, a tender legend of prey

Parades Her second coming, now they're running afraid



Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial

She was the light of the world going down

War-torn, forlorn and malarial

She was found

Born in a burial gown



Now She moves with a predator's guile

Beyond the firelit circle of life

She soothes your cold heart for a while

Then matches its beat, synching in with a knife

She wrestles Her dreams with a delicate case

Espied by Her cross on the wall

And should She awake, through embrace or mistake

She would take Jesus

Bless foot forward and