She drifts like a dream in the night,
'Cross eerie forests and barren moors,
Whispers on the edge of awareness,
Madness seeps through each door.
Long since she was a fair maiden,
Cursed both with beauty and sight,
Her spirit is drawn to dark vistas,
Bathing all with entrancing light.
Corrupting the sweet dreams of sleepers,
Tormenting both rich and poor,
Dark tendrils entwine happy dreams,
Dragging them towards a far shore.
Those lost in slumber are helpless,
Rafts adrift in the storm,
Fears multiply like gathering beasts,
You pray for the mercy of dawn.
Hearts race, eyes flutter, brows drip,
Limbs tremble, they toss and they groan,
Cowering before her dark presence,
She patiently waits on her throne.
Some wandering souls are consumed,
Lost to their fears still unborn,
Once her bleak hunger is sated,
The rest are released to the dawn.
She doesn't recall her own name,
She only exists in the dream hour,
She's banished by the breaking dawn,
Pray to forget Betty Noir.
