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Her Ghost in the Fog

Her Ghost in the Fog


"The breeze stank of sunset and camphor,
My lantern chased Her phantom and blew
Their chapel ablaze, and all locked in to a pain,
Best reserved for judgement that their bible construed.
Putting reason to flight, or to flame, unashamed..
I swept form cries, mesmerized
By the taffeta Ley, or Her hips that held sway,
Over all those at bay.
Save a mist on the rise,
A final blessing to hide
Her ghost in the fog..
And I embraced - where lovers rot
Her ghost in the fog."
Cradle of Filth - Her Ghost in the Fog
  • Category : DRAWING
  • Year : 2016
  • Total Edition No : 0
  • Size : 21(W) x 29.7(H) cm
  • Posting : 2016. 07. 28

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2016. 08. 01