Her cadaverous complexion coruscating underneath the veil of the tense moonlight
Her trembling fingers clutching an ensanguined rose
As her breath comes out as a melodious heaving Oh how miscreant can the golden girl be?
Dancing through the pavilion of her twisted reverie
Her soft footsteps reverberating beneath the marble floor
Creating those vivid illusions of her own petrifying monster She's waltzing behind his shadow like whispers of love
Hiding beneath the masquerade of the weak young woman
Yet when he turned around, she wishes it would scar
That perfect sanguinary incision she made on his back Her demented laughter echoed through the room
As his eyes went wide and he screamed out loud in fear and terror
Oh how imbecilic of him to trust this pale beauty
And now his downfall is an asinine failure of love And now she sits by the window, gazing at the scenery
Summoning the illusory world in exchange of the reality
Her skin crawled as the empty room's thorny stares close on her
And she did what she can do, laugh and laugh till her throat becomes sore It was the piercing hatred that drove her on the edge, she convinces herself
He trapped him inside his castle, alone and miserable
But yet in the last moment, her heart began to falter
'Does this man deserve death? Or should I just cower' But it doesn't matter anymore, for what has been done, has been done
While reeling the thread together, through the rusted needle
'Won't it be much better to fall in the endless slumber?' she thought
Will the supposedly dull morning become worth waiting for? As the lingering scent of blood mixed with the fragrance of the morning dusk
She just can't help herself but holler in pure irony
There's not an absolute distinction between fortune and misfortune, she says
But who would have thought that the beauty is the