Anachronism Of a Brute

*for the first time ever am writing something in context of a picture. I dont know how well have I stood on it. do leave a comment.*

On the tomb of Mary,

near the endless sea of faith,

the beast had forsakened the fairy,

and she made him her bait.

love is the devil,

and she destroys again,

for the warrior's marvel,

shes the goddess of the pain.

going through the fear,

An intimate metamorphosis,

she 's here-

Her trust shatters and relapses.

on the rocks of corpses'.
the shadows wander,

As the angel laments,

the misery and slaughter,

And the Christ condemns,

the evil hails Its encounter .

love is the devil,

and she destroys again,

And for the warrior's marvel,

shes the goddess of the pain.

As the glory orphans her to hell,

she become weak.

the agitaiton takes the spell,

a weapon of meak.

Its her time to yell,

wings turn Black,

she's the witch,

and dust is her faith.
when the skies turn black,

and the thunderstrom surround

the endless outbreak,

to her pyre the waning winds lead.

love is the devil,

and she destroys again,

And for the warrior's marvel,

shes the goddess of the pain.