Winter Moon

For the paleness of her face
there is hidden blood
In every shadow of her smile
lies dormant a painful rage
If you reach out and touch
would you chance upon lips of roses
Or will her thorns draw blood
Crimson teeth with glee

Do you understand cold
Will you be wise enough to run
to that home of death and gold
You will be her child of love
You cannot hide that mark
made upon the brow in lust
If you want to burn it away
You must worship the Winter Moon

Let her caress your body
Give in to her Call and Touch
See with renewed eyes on your folly
Let her bath you in dew and mist
Received her silver-dusted sword
Give her your promise to be faithful
Cry out 'Queen of my Soul!'
and drink of her bloodless lips

All at once see night fade
As her minions wither away
to await in the shadowy glade
For answers to to the ever silent question
whispering with the strains of the ever woeful flute
Chance everlasting pain, if you disobey
Risk life, blood and soul, if you sway
From her searing eyes of deep dismay
Hidden behind her paleness
She, the Winter Moon