Your ruby blood stains on the white porcelain tiled floor like a blood lust pouring like a savage's thirsty wisk

Your hand stains on my silky purple apparel imprinted like the insignia of a phantom's sigh

You were sobbing for help in the Sanctum of Serenity of Room 13

Lo, The blood of thee hath been shed and the clock had struck for Beleth to feast

And I saw the Elysian realms shut behind you.

Why did you take him, Jolene, while you knew both of us were immortalized

Thou hath perished in my hands after the 13th day of Februa

God, my witness, that I could have burned the loud emotions away, but your stubbornness caused this Jolene

At that time, I cleaned your menses with the pages of the Holy Book, and it tasted like the velvet wine poured from a summer's dream

Your milky gazelle-shaped breast like the amber honey dipping with the golden light.

Eons ago,you had it all when you rode him as the pale horse of Beleth; filled you in while he was getting empty

But you never knew, the Lady of the Dead, My Dark Mistress, The Immaculate Eternal Sleeper had drunk in the view of you.

Oh, Mors, Ponder upon the damsel in red as I have slain my other half, my comforter.

You took him because you could, Go on!, have his body.

Now, you can have him wherever you both are.