From the gaspings in Her passing Six feet under or beneath frayed gown When Her hands pointed to midnight In a white stained chamber bound
I Swept Her from the abyss of another dementia Freeing Her soul from the fetters of fate To take the reins of pleasure Now nightwane mirrors freeze in seizure At the glimpse of charmed pins in Her thighs Ballrooms filled with black cats scratch Out of spite and playful eyes!
