Near the dead of night,
Not a wind, not a breath, nor a light.
Did the moon ever glow so bright?
As I whispered the spell against all that is right,
And invaded the house were my envy took flight.
In this house wrapped in dead night,
Slept one remaining corpse of light,
Fresh blood with a face so bright,
I, the queen of envy, saw her too right,
Then with a scream gave perfection a fright,
And with the claws of night,
I queen of envy stole her life.