Haunting Mignon
A haunting mignon. My sweet Musette, of darkness. A pale silhouette weeping on cold stones, in heaven’s crypt. Cracked by the frost of blind angels, carved from bones, bleeding in the rain With haloes. Trapped in a holy tomb of profane. My eternal call. Half dead, half alive walking on cracked bones. My reason to live. The glitter in the eye, when you are exhaustly tired. My sweet Musette. My eternal love. A haunting mign...