Seven seals, seven rings,

Seven brides for the Scarlet King.


They gather round the natal bed,

The foolish and the wise.

They fear the child yet to be born,

Whose voice shall rend the skies.


The faithful watch the forest

For the coming of the King.

Their lanterns bright, they wait at night

For the new world he shall bring.


The dragon waits in shadows,

His breath will scorch the land.

The hero in the castle draws his sword

And makes his stand.


The princess in the tower

Is hidden far away.

But nothing under heaven

Can keep The Groom at bay.


They gather round with leering smiles,

The soulless and the dead.

Though her soul unwinds, the cruelest minds

Will keep her in her bed.


The potter told his 'prentice

To prepare him seven jars.

Six he made with grace and skill,

The last his hands did mar.


The cretin moon no more is howling,

Gone its mourning black.

In their dreams its face is prowling,

Come to take them back.


The King is in his courting clothes,

The brides are in their beds.

The unborn princes wait in sleep

To raise their eager heads.


The hens were in the henhouse

And seven eggs did lay,

'Till the fox crept in by dark of night

And stole the eggs away.


Six were broken by their bindings

Six no more shall sing.

Comes the seventh full unwinding

And all the bells will ring.


When the first had given birth,

Then all the birds did sing.

Her screaming cries did shake the skies,

As she called out for her King.


By doctor's blade the second bade

A life into the world.

Untimely hewn neath a silent moon,

The King's red flag unfurled.


His bride the third remained unheard,

Her cries for help ignored.

She stopped her life with a surgeon's knife,

And gave it to Our Lord.


The fourth prepares a dagger

And places it at her heart.

The perfect cure cannot make pure

What the King has set apart.


The fifth one's crown was bearing down

Upon the fox's set.

The den was sundered with mighty thunder,

An apocalypse beget.


On the sixth's day, the walls gave way,

And the oceans turned to ash.

Her birth gave work, as the earth shook,

Underneath the King's fell lash.


The seventh bride will break the tides

The moon no more will shine.

There comes a day not far away

She'll birth the death of time.


The doctor never tells his god

Which one he really seeks.

Instead he hides himself away,

And quietly, he weeps.


Their god's own voice, he makes the choice,

Declaring with their word.

"In fear and pain let her remain,

Lest she be like the third."


The doctor's gun ended his run,

As he put it to his ear.

As she was defiled, the pitied child,

He gave it to his fear.


Her memory a fickle thing,

The strongest shall endure.

When her weeping starts to waver,

Their drugs make her mind pure.