Virgin Thorn

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Her lover had died,

bleeding beneath the gloomy sunrise.


The mourning widow became a sinner,

her grasp on sanity grew wearily thinner.

With her wish fulfilled, she schemed and conspired,

of taboo fantasies to please her desires.


Her betrothed had left her a broken virgin,

his death had drawn insanity's curtain.


Townsfolk say she took fancy to the shadows,

where she stalked and admired the crooked gallows.

She became obsessed with death and carnal cravings,

the virgin flower sprouted thorned engravings.


Awaiting a dark paradise to fall in her lap,

she summoned curses to draw them in.

Anything was suitable to fill the throbbing gap,

playing her broken pieces like Aphrodite's violin.


How long was she destined to mourn?

as the tattered bride of virgin thorn.

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