Sibilant and macabre
   Walpurgis sauntered in
   Skies litten with five-pointed stars
   The work of crafts surpassing sin
   As She graced Her window ledge
   - An orphaned gypsy nymph
   This issue of the forest's bed
   Skin flushed with sipped absinthe -
   Her eyes revealed, as Brocken's peak
   Tried once concealing Hell
   A snow white line of divine freaks
   In riot, where they fell...
  
   The circus lurches in, a ring of promised delight
   For seven days and seven festival nights
   What wicked wonders lie within the comfines
   Of the panther's den
  
   She watches from a maypole, on the rip of Her tongue
   The restless spirit of Christmas to come
   A Gretel sick of merely sucking Her thumb
   Than gingerbread men
  
   Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial
   She was the light of the world going down
   War-torn, forlorn and malarial
   She was found
   Born in a burial gown
  
   Unloosed, the chain of Her god-given cross
   Seduced, now pagan ribbons swathe Her repose
   In a carnival of souls sold and similarly lost
  
   Too many decades misfit and mislaid
   In innocence, a tender legend of prey
   Parades Her second coming, now they're running afraid
  
   Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial
   She was the light of the world going down
   War-torn, forlorn and malarial
   She was found
   Born in a burial gown
  
   Now She moves with a predator's guile
   Beyond the firelit circle of life
   She soothes your cold heart for a while
   Then matches its beat, synching in with a knife
   She wrestles Her dreams with a delicate case
   Espied by Her cross on the wall
   And should She awake, through embrace or mistake
   She would take Jesus
   Bless foot forward and all...
  
   Sibiliant and at last
   The circus crawled away
   With another lover in its arms
   Dancing on Her grave...