Middle Ages Return de Xasthur

As the Demon slavered foetid vows
And bore His prey away
In talons itching to perpetrate
The nausea of eternal rape
The Sorceress screaming in His grasp
Spat a final curse to stain
The Countess with the promise
That Her lord at war would be cruelly slain

And She would rot.
Alone
Insane.
On the twisted nails of faith.