In the moment, inside her entitlement,
Andulan yawned mildly, keeping her wits about her,
Those draining her below stopped for a time.
Looking outside her faded glass window, behind purple drapes,
Drawn back to uncover why she was tired, morning was here,
Despite youth and stillness, she still bowed before forces,
Observed by common melodies, it was the life inside her,
Clawing at her insides, yearning for more blood that did it,
Be patient my dear, soon enough you'll be fed,
Castle Sanguinair is ripe with flesh and wine,
A color most divine.