Countess B. Poem by Georgios Venetopoulos

The Countess' red ablution flows its sinful course,
in dark she transfers souls to demons' places cursed,
vampiral maid, behind the walls; her laws endorse
insatiate, immoral cause of bloodbath thirst.

Chiropterans surround her deem, and crimson ooze,
an evildoer that the daylight abnegates,
with sculptured emblem that consists of three bear claws,
expends her victims when their flowing rate abates.

Defiled, cossets the simple mortals in her play
with hundreds of fake promises, in lustful mist,
a widow of relentless touch, apt to betray,
both male and female corteges, that once she kissed.

The sullied Countess nobbles hence in bare contempt,
infernal victims; blackened angel drifts
in frantic, detrimental passion that sins' tempt
advance her thirstiness to delactation shrifts.

She ravages upon the crimson brinks of baths
as immortality befalls, effete maîtresse,
denounces ethics, raves upon ungodly acts,
deriding e'er wickedly her victims' stress.