Erzsebet of Bathory
Jul. 7th, 2003 05:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaebilityAh, the blood! Oh sweet honey that warms me from my soul to my crimsonned stained skin, I adore each drop and savory its magic. The screams are like the call of the King of Cats at midnight when the faeries sleep and the demons play. Their eyes cry scarlet tears, more blood for me to capture and drink.
But is my baths that I kill them for, that I torture them to fill. Their skin, white and pure as snow! bleeds forth a wine that keeps me ageless. My bath catches their droplets as they rain down upon me; I splash and play in my immortality.
When I finish, when I am renewed, I dance in their blood and smear written prayers on the walls, giving the life-blood to my castle as I give it to my heart.
But is my baths that I kill them for, that I torture them to fill. Their skin, white and pure as snow! bleeds forth a wine that keeps me ageless. My bath catches their droplets as they rain down upon me; I splash and play in my immortality.
When I finish, when I am renewed, I dance in their blood and smear written prayers on the walls, giving the life-blood to my castle as I give it to my heart.