Poor Child Of Sin

[Jesterhead]

Imagine me if you must, as someone you once knew.
Or better yet, imagine me as you.

Once upon a time I sat in the midnight’s shade
Alone within a crowd of children’s summer parade
Tears of blood ran down the cheeks of every child,
As they laughed at the full moon so mild, oh so mild.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each darkened shade,
That drew upon the room, thrilled me with terrors soon to fade,
Each step I took within the room of the morrow,
A new child laughed blood of sorrow.

Within the core of my eyes a graveyard I saw,
I could never enter it, that was my fathers law,
A raven stared at me upon the queering door,
With eyes so deep, never seen before.

On that day I broke the law, and entered the queering door,
Though the touch of pattern's core, betrayed the days of yore,
Inside i felt the shiver; of nakedness, unsure
Steady my heart I wore in hand as never felt before.

Forever yet the ghastly grim of the smoke encircled whore,
Praised the pentagram upon the nightly shore,
Our eyes before me flowed forevermore,
Tis the mystery I explore within the eyes of yore.

The lord dark and lady bright I sadly adore,
May thy crest be soar and shut forevermore,
I bled the steps through the graveyards nightly shore,
Here I flung the shutter, and in my eyes I am no more.

The lady sleeps, the lady bright,
Oh let her sleep, the lady of the night,
Love and hate and death impale,
Awakened in the skin so pale.

From whom the deadly sound of yore,
Shall force an echo more,
So fear not poor child of sin,
Imparted is thy bloody chin.