it was a night of dark desire,
a song of eternal pain,
wolves vent their loneliness.
the beatiful one rises.
curling, icy wisps of death,
shrouds her pale form,
an impatient wanting.
her raven hair cascades over
pale and delicate shoulders,
and her full scarlet lips part slightly
to taste the blood streaming from
the pale flesh beneath her.
now a night of sharing,
I REMEMBER HER.
Unknown "Arwen" Calm
- 16 years, 8 months, 16 days ago