The story of, Gilles De Rais
Her penultimate sighs called softy on the kindling wind.
Her saintly eyes filling with tears, lifting with truth; and then a golden flash like the onset of Heaven leaving her screams breaking my heart and in the grip of fire
I knew the death of love.
Her saintly eyes filling with tears, lifting with truth; and then a golden flash like the onset of Heaven leaving her screams breaking my heart and in the grip of fire
I knew the death of love.