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It is a night of dark desire,
a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their loneliness.
The eternal one stirs.

Night shrouds her brooding form,
a timeless fear.

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

Now a night of new awareness,
I remember her.
©2008-2009 ~rottnpagan
:iconrottnpagan:

Author's Comments

I wrote this, one night, in 2007.

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April 15, 2008
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