the room is devoid but she sits there with a weak candle flickering its barren carpet reeks of death but the trails in its dust speaks of life's presence water falls through the open window and along the line of its realm things like children grow but they are children of a dark wood and their frightened faces make methods of fleeing the sun so we can neither aid them nor deny them passage
she waits and watches this theatre of the macabre and except the plate of food and the mug of ale nothing but the pages she has burnt remain on the oak desk thouse pages held within them a world unto itself a seaside town where a man lived once a seafarer and scholar who had understandings of these things like this accursed room that holds her in an addiction to the corruption of souls she hungers the dark and dreams that deaths kiss is warm and loving she dreams that she is a creature of the night
drink of the *** drink of the wine but you will never wipe away such visions they will remain near to thy heart to the end of your days
and the stair with the wood about is a midnight palace of the legions of mighty creatures that cannot be seen in the light of day moonlight is her companion and her friend
i sit in the easy chair with the refuse of a thousand years of learning scattered at my feet in useless protest at the futility to love someone who loves death her slow daily death is her complete pleasure its a death that crawls slowly up her tender bare skin like the caress of timeless lover who's sharp teeth draw blood who sup's and drinks at the deep well of her soul like a creature of the night
its a death full of dark romance and pleasures endured like she is a creature of the night and her words are written in magical verse unsettling to the ear to behold but brings such fires to heart bring such longings to the bitter cold night in the north yonkers weddings park that she walks in with such beautiful life in the arms of death have him as a lover his cold hands finding the delicate lace of her tongue and in his forever kiss she breaths on like a creature of the night
(for the north yonkers girl with the keys to the wedding park... for thouse familiar with the legend of untermyer park in yonkers new york (i lived in yonkers several times) will no doubt get a bit of a laugh out of this little ditty, everyone else will think its just dark poetry.)