The Nun With The Astral Habit

The world was her cloister, the Abess Duboir
in the convent at All Hallows fair.
A pearl in an oyster, she shone like a star,
augmenting her sisterhoods prayers.

Her singing touched Angels and melted
their hearts, her choirs inspired the search
for the lost holy grail, the Benedict arts,
and the best of the Catholic Church.

But if one thing,
one precious little thing
would darken this facade.
There would be such consequences!

Like the night Sister Victoria
stepped in from the freezing cold,
no candles would light at Evening Mass.

The days passed by without a sigh
but dusk came thick with dread.
Intangible, the air was full of
wanderlust and approaching bloodshed.

In truth, the Abbess with her pious
whims enjoyed the new girl's pain,
proof to the rest that the briars of sin
entangled all the world in Satan's name.

Victoria Varco, once an heiress to a
proud noble estate, fell pregnant
by her recklessness who then fell
foul to a violent fate.

Such was her crime in expedient times,
and the shame of besmirching her name.
Her child was burnt, she was dragged to
these walls for a life in obedient chains.

But not one thing,
one precious little thing
would darken this facade.

Like the night Sister Victoria
woke screaming in her room,
she spent a week spiralling
from Heaven.

And as the seasons wheezed and pined
her dreams grew more perverse, for no good
reasons she would find an alluring woman
naked save for jewels and verse.

When here eyelids closed, on a moonlit shore
this intoxicating beauty would appear.
The sweetest symphony composed those abating
lips rose to whisper dirty secrets in her ear.

"Clandestine secrets!"

A dream within a dream
she finds herself this nymph
abreast a desert dune,
and below the crescent moon
atop a darksome stranger.

Ah, the spurting of his seed
inside her triggers paradise,
she rides the beast until
the Heavens tremble.

Forcing eclipse,
her lover licks her blood
that drips upon the sand,
and almost out of hand
coarse plots assemble.

For somewhere in the convent walls
a templar treasure rests,
forgotten to the vestibules
like pleasures of the flesh.

So in return for nightly runs,
past tongues and wisdom's hiss,
she promised to assist the hunt
for an ancient golden chain amiss.