Poem

In the navy of the night,
you prowl
In the light of the moon's soft gaze,
you smile.

With my heart in your hands,
you wash them of the blood,
as I taste the saccharine taste of your lips,
our love everlasting through the twilight.

At the hour of the witch,
I scream,
At the season of cold,
I dream.

While I try not to cry through my lashes,
I know I must still be strong for this love,
though I wish I could fall into you,
our love never ending this night.