The Brothels of Armageddon.

I am in burial grounds as I lay in the comfort of her chest,
Discarded my virtuous past in the traps of her breast
The fire of her soothing voice, grappled man in a lovers nest
When the winds of her voice cry "my liege, my liege,"
She is the beast with the satinet heart that siege.

Possessed, the beasts leaves loving men,
To engulf in sea of lust crying "Amen, Amen."
Her love is a vile heavenly aura,
Her heart, a box of Pandora
Skews out evil hands that dwindle my thoughts,
To all spiraling into a ditch of distraught
I am dead with the elixir of love,
As she dances me in her porcelain glove.

The rivers flooded with ears cut off,
By the gold lathered beast of lust
She has even killed the high priest,
Made fools of men as her heavenly feast
By the gold lathered beast of lust.