Music of Sorrow

Astride her raft of ancient bones, she stands in proud defiance. She will accept no challenge to her will, nothing but total compliance, with blooded bow grasped in hand and death besides her does stand. She plays with liquid grace leading her deathly band. The darkness of her beauty shadows the morning light. The music she composes sings prelude to the night. Beguiling queen; no innocence prevails her icy glare. A heart in-cased in winters grip, no remorse, no pity; no cares. Your cries are percussion to her tune ~the song of death, dismay~ The epilogue of her performance a symphony of decay. So bow your head, kiss her feet in the hypnotic intent of her art in this the orchestra of death you now must play a part.