It is a night of dark desire, a song of darkness,
wolves vent their loneliness. The beautiful one
wakens.
Mist shrouds her pale form,
an everlasting wanting.
Her midnight hair cascades over
pale and delicate shoulders, and her
full crimson lips part slightly, to taste the
red tears streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of ecstasy,
I remember her.
