Darkness magnifies the serenity of thy pallid face.
A type of awe that the greater could not muster
Lest it be put down as thy had been
And forever continue to be.
There is a smile behind those shining eyes
In its own eerie way sparking fear in the minds of the courageous,
So vivid it makes them want to curl up and die.
The moonlight shines upon thy perfect skin,
Which reflects not upon thy darkened blood.
Entwined within each branching vein
Pulsing 'neath paper colored skin.
Though beautiful thy deceit
The wages of which are ugly, gray.
Thy blood will stain
The severed heads of evil men,
And thy head,
Crushed under a golden clad heel,
And gazed upon by an aristocratic face.
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