The Twisted Nails Of Faith Lyric Cradle of Filth LOVECRAFT AND WITCH HEARTS

"Mirror, mirror on the wall
Shouldst not grave pleasures be my all?
For if
I shall see thy Will be done
Grant Me the Witchcraft of thy
tongue"

Three moondials froze in the shadow of six
As another soul
passed to the grasping Styx
Clutching their trinket crucifix
Bats blew
from caves in a dissonant surge
Omens of corruption from within the
church
A fetid, dank oasis still clung to fool rebirth

Alone as a
stone cold altar
The castle and its keep
Like faerytale dominion rose
A
widow to the snow peaks
Wherein reclined the Countess
Limbs purring from
the kill
Bathed in virgin white and like the night
Alive and young and
unfulfilled

Was it the cry of a wolf
That broke the silver thread of
enchanted thoughts?
Of Her life as a mere reflection
(As the moon's in
narrow windows caught)
That opened like dark eyelids on
The sigh of the
woods that the wind fell upon

Like a Siren weaving song
From the lilt
of choirs choking
Where the vengeful dead
Belong...

To the
Sorceress and Her charnel arts
She swept from ebon towers at the hour of
Mars
'Neath a star-inwoven sky latticed by scars
To unbind knotted reins
that kept in canter, despair
Shod on melancholy, fleet to sanctuary
there,
In netherglades tethered where onyx idols stared

Was it the
Kiss of the mist
That peopled the air with the prowess of absinthe?
Lost
souls begging resurrection
From Gods upon their forest plinths
Whose
epitaphs read of re-ascending to win
Remission from despair through a
holocaust of sin

In a tongue hilted in invective rectums
Over signs
and seals the sorceress prayed
To Death, to rend the slender veil
That
Ancient Ones might rise again

As shadows swelled
The Countess
fell
To masturbating with Her dagger
As the Witch gabbled
spells
Cumming heavy roses all the way to Hell
As sudden thunder's grue
harangue
Announced two pincered worlds

Exuding bane, something
came
With the stench of necrophiled graves
To these clandestines
Who
shrank from glimpsing horror
That the growls of mating houls
inclined...

Resplendent
In pendants
(Natal trophies torn from
bellies of desanctified nuns)
A demons, bewinged, bedight
In scum, prowled
their circle seeking entry to run
An arctic tongue upon Her vulva
Where
rubies smeared to alabaster thighs
Glittered like a contract in the purse of
a whore
Receiving sole communion from the body of christ

"If blood is
what thou carves, foul fiend
I will yield this witch to thee
If thou
wouldst draw a veil for Me
O'er lengthening scars of age and grief"

As
the Demon slavered foetid vows
And bore His prey away
In talons itching to
perpetrate
The nausea of eternal rape
The Sorceress screaming in His
grasp
Spat a final curse to stain
The Countess with the promise
That
Her lord at war would be cruelly slain

And She would
rot.
Alone
Insane.
On the twisted nails of faith.


 

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	Queen of Winter Throned (Intro) by Cradle of Filth

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