dark love


It is a night of death, a song of darkness,
wolves vent their howls. The dark one
awakes.

Death shrouds her deathly form,
a timeless dread.

Her inky black hair cascades over
pale shoulders, and her
full really very deeply crimson lips part slightly, to taste the
red tears streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.

Now a night of taking,
I weep.