by Nick Gisburne
For Seraphina, Courtesan of Crows
Depravity is everything she needs
A pleasure and a torment to impose
Before her dying, beaten body breeds
Her sexual insanity allows
An infinite diversity of mates
The tortured tongues of innocents arouse
Her mind, her soul, her body, as she waits
A predatory, boundless, carnal greed
Convulses as the victims slide within
Unthinkable, outrageous organs bleed
And violate the surface of her skin
Her spawning stains the oceans and the skies
And in this grim fertility she dies
