Dark Love

by Cristina

It is a night of sorrow, a song of darkness,
wolves vent their pain. The immortal one

Wisps of death shrouds her deathly form,
an impatient agony.

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

Now a night of new life,
I rise.

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