It is a night of sorrow, a song of death,
wolves vent their pain. The beautiful one
awakes.

Night shrouds her pale form,
a timeless desire.

Her raven hair cascades over
pale and delicate shoulders, and her
full blood red lips part slightly, to taste the
red tears streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.

Now a night of darkness,
I remember her.
 
Copyright © lakubanbabii, All Rights Reserved