The Mistress

She, the mistress of her own red lust
With a frozen heart of iron rust
She would never feel a true deep joy
She's having pleasure with virile toys

Medusian long black hair her crown
While she's sitting statued on her throne
She had sold her heart to the dark god
Prevent the decay of death and rod

She's luring in castle ebony
For everyone who's seeking to be
An immortal soul on earth all time
Oh how they love this old story's rhyme

If they only know she's betraying
And that she can't be killed by slaying.