though I walk through these valleys
of death poetry and hearses  
what I sow into this earth
is cursed with blasphemous black verses
 
and though I fear no evil
for I am divine and victorious
there is still much evil
in all that is satanic and glorious
 
and though I may be comforted
by thy rod and thy staff
no amount of religion
can exorcise me from my wrath
 
infernally christened
by a devil`d King
my lips are sealed bequeath
the iron embers of his ring
 
in all that I am …
a Diva maddened with darkness
in all that I`ve become …
a Diva plagued by a dis~regardless;
my heart is still
a mortal beating with lungs breathing
emotions fleeting;
only a phantom I remain
in your shadow of shadows
and poetries disdain`d
you will remember my name …
 
though I walk through these valleys
of death poetry and sin
what was bred from this earth
was from semen and men