She stands at the top of the castlewallshe gazes at the seashore belowhalf a glass since the crimson of duskbut her sombre soul takes no notice of suchin her heart she longs for the angel of deathshe is stalked by the dream of his touchnecromantic witch, such an innocent heartyet het past is but a trail of blood and desiremurderess in the most intimate touchstiletto death, so that het prince can watchas she craves for the grasp of his touchin love with the spirit of deathshe is destined to dance at the tombs of the deadin love with the spirit of deathshe embraces the darkness and beauty of funeralsdeath above her, whispering lowa cold and strange tongue she doesn't knowlove confessions? so soft in her ear"become my bride my sweetest. Do not fearobsessed by the spirit of deathshe will never betray her love for the prince of the deadwild winds, so strong they blowoff the castlewall she longs to gobody scattered, spirit freein the arms of whom she longs to belonesouls fly..even stars must dieyet their shimmertheir shimmer will last for lifetimes
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