The Maiden in the Labyrinth Cries for Isabelle

They will say that twilight slayed you, my dead Isabelle.
That the labyrinth coiled around you, my dying Isabelle.
That Theseus’s sword burned too hot for it’s bearer, Isabelle.
That Cronos caught up to you, my pyre enflamed Isabelle.
That all your armor rusted, my conniving Isabelle, that
the minotaur was jaded, my consumptive Isabelle, that van Eyck
painted you as an angel, my singing Isabelle. That the Lamb of
God was mighty, my martyr Isabelle. Are you knight or damsel?
My encrypted Isabelle. How many codes to hack you? My shrouded
Isabelle. Maybe our ancestors walked as one, my library Isabelle.
And Paradise was Lost and Found again, my godly Isabelle. Do you
know you haunt me, my demon Isabelle. And the years yawn on without
me, my butterfly Isabelle. The Carpathians are calling, my bridely
Isabelle. And Gav’riel’s trumpet bellows like an ox, my stately
Isabelle. Sammael’s venom grows sweet on me, my drowning Isabelle.
His heart is lost inside me, my slayer Isabelle. I am Cadmus’ dragon,
my darling Isabelle, and like Fafnir you must eat me, my lordly Isabelle.
No matter the bloodstains, don’t mind the screaming, my savior Isabelle.

I was only good for bleeding,
my keeper Isabelle.