to be as she

it is a night of sorrow, a song of darkness,
wolves vent their cry. The thirsting one
awakes.

evil shrouds her gaunt form,
an everlasting wrath.

her inky black hair cascades over
pale and tragic shoulders, and her
full red lips part slightly, to taste the
darkness streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.

now a night of taking,
I remember her.