Pricked as a Witch Her stitches itch For familiar lips to lick them dry Whilst the dark regrasps, for if She asks The Sun forsakes the rite to rise And is the first to discern, that this Angel's return Is a vengefull call on grace For even martyrdom backs from it's suicide pacts A leap of twisted fate betrayed...
The scars will last until the stars Caught in Her train bewitched Fall into line and yeild the sign That Dawn in born to their eclipse
For Our Inhumankind Comes an underdog day Sunrise Rippling with fire llike femaledition...
