The golden sun soon was setting,
Waves of light cascading outward,
Round the castle, tall and towered,
And on halls of glass reflecting.
Masked they stood, awaiting the scene,
Before the finely gilded gates,
And through the massive, sturdy grates,
The lady of the night was seen.
Above the castle yard she stood,
A feather gown encased her form,
As wings an angel would adorn,
Her golden hair a shining hood.
A lilac mask concealed her face,
And unto it she now became,
A child's face, but a body dame,
That strode with an elegant grace.
The gates were opened to the crowd,
Proceeding into the estate,
No one dared to ever be late,
To be caught beneath the Night's shroud.
The castle opened unto them.
The hallways sparkled in bright light,
Casting out the hideous Night,
Stalwart there as a star-like gem.
The ballroom was a grand affair,
Tapestry hung from wall to wall,
And hues of light consumed the hall,
Amidst the noble and the fair.
The child-angel proceeded about,
Her guests, the wealthy of the land,
As at the door he stood, not grand,
But wicked in his mask's dark pout.
Cloaked in black from his head to heel,
The man stood imperiously,
As all in his vicinity,
Before the Lord of Night did kneel.
With careful pace, he strode around,
The gala and the frightened crowd,
No longer could they flee the shroud,
That followed him, a hunting hound.
As a hush overcame the throng,
To the lady, he sauntered there,
And gently stroked her golden hair,
As from the walls a haunting song,
Echoed throughout the castle halls,
So he led her onto the floor,
As the sunset shone through the door,
Setting ablaze the sullen ball.
Amid the inferno blazing,
The angel and demon danced there,
Under the nobles' constant stare,
As one parted soul reflecting,
Unto the other, just the same,
One of the deepest, darkest hell,
The other who casts glamoured spell.
They danced, the darkness and the dame.
Though, as the sun began to set,
The child's aspect upon her face,
Within the darkness did now embrace,
The selfsame form that did beget,
The darkness in the castle great,
That danced with the angel, fallen,
Cursed by the darkness befallen,
On the grandeur of her estate.
No more the feathered angel-child,
A black gown of burning ember.
Not one soul can now remember,
The angel from this demon, wild.
Hand in hand, they danced forever,
In the hallways, and through the gate,
Into the forest. Never late,
Was the Night, silent and clever.
