Is this a beast or a face of an innocent bride?

Who’s waltzing along in this fatal game?

Is she held captive? Or seduced by night?

Or crucified between the church and flame?

 

In this white, hazy dance, truth and delusion

Swap dresses, as though costumes of the soul,

And she must choose one trail in seclusion,

Between a gilded ditch and Eden’s call.

 

The Night was first to lure her with its song,

The Day, late for the altar, took too long.