She is the gypsy crowned in bone and braid, Young roots threading through her scalp be afraid. Incense breath and serpents coiled in thought, A walking altar that this world forgot. Her shadow sings before she speaks a word, Every truth is bent, but meaning is never blurred. Not ever Her eyes are deep holes in the veil of sight, Spinning sense to stone beneath their light. You stand awake but frozen where you pray, A poor fawn caught between the night and day. Blades cannot cut the spell she casts on you, No mirror shows the self you thought you knew. If you could look away, you might still move, If you could turn your feet, you might still choose. But the song from the cathedral of her mouth Falls like a lie, sung sweetly, sung in truth. If only you could look away But you never do. Never She opens lips with promises entwined, More tongues than ears could ever hope to bind. The vipers whisper sermons from her hair, Each voice a logic you are forced to bear. They argue fate with velvet, smoke, and flame, Until resistance sounds exactly like her name. If you could look away, the stone would crack, If you could look away, your soul come back. But the song from the cathedral of her mouth Falls like a lie, sung sweetly, sung in truth. If only you could look away But you never do. Never Pedestals crumble where your footsteps stood, Faith turns to marble, your will turns to wood. You swear you hear the truth hit hollow ground, But her lies make the most beautiful sound. Now kneel before her altar made from death, Where belief is sharper than your breath. The spell is done the moment you believe, This lie survives because you chose to see. If you could look away, the spell would end, If you could look away, you’d live again. But the song from the cathedral of her mouth Still falls like truth, it falls like truth. Oh! Stone sings louder than flesh ever could, And you stand listening As statues would. Now enter sleep for good
