I wear my mask, a heavy crown
to bring you, turn you, brake you down.
A crown to wear my deep desire,
upon which to build my great empire.
Admit my love, our pleasant sin,
the pleasure, flames, that rage within
a touch, a kiss; aesthetic arts
of bodies, frail, and desperate hearts.
Adore my pain, it makes me feel
alive, and no embrace shall never heal
the wounds I've carved with love and hate;
those soulless dolls Man did create.
Through my burning heart shall breathe
a flowers smell, a dying seed
to grow upon the faithful lies
watered by our sensual nights.
Immortal I shall bloom again
to breath, to love! and to ascend
upon the throne of you, my dear,
to rule my kingdom made of fear.
