It is a night of ethereal pain, a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their loneliness. The beautiful one
awakes.

Death shrouds her deathly form,
an everlasting desire.

Her inky black hair cascades over
fragile milk-white shoulders, and her
full scarlet lips part slightly, to taste the
life streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.

Now a night of ecstasy,
I weep.