It is a night of darkness, a song of dark desire,
wolves vent their loneliness. The beautiful one
awakes.
Darkness shrouds her walking form,
an eternal desire.
Her black 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 ecstasy,
I smile vaguely.
By: Chuck Reynolds (EvilHawk)
