Her Waters Drenched the Grove

Last rites of a sovereign 

Adorned with a diadem 

Laying leaves drizzled 

On casket coffer sealing in, 

The hammering of quotes 

Chiseled on the resting head 

An epitaph marked a home 

Where eulogies spoke then lain alit. 

A vigil on the rise, 

Candles melt, and the weeping sit. 

Planchettes moving wild, 

Spirits call where the veil is thinnest.

Enchanted knights espoused the sun 

Crescent lady bathed, betrothed. 

A dawning light in a guise of malice 

Statues stand on errant womb. 

Eclipsed the maid with cleansing hands

Pushing water 'twart the stone 

Gypsum called upon the Countess 

Scribing talking board to song. 

Clasping heels a vagrant bitch 

Binumeral pleasures counting 

With one's hands, she takes to gain 

Her zeros are surrounding. 

Climactic shades she serenades 

Her questions are quite taxing, 

From the lands of grave, she obeyed 

Lunar orbs bid her to their asking:

"Yes. 'Go Fuck Yourself.' Goodbye."