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 all...      Sibiliant and at last   The circus crawled away   With another lover in its arms   Dancing on Her grave...