deepundergroundpoetry.com
To be as she
to be as she
It is a night of dark desire, a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their howls. The beautiful one
rises.
Darkness shrouds her pale form,
an everlasting desire.
Her midnight hair cascades over
pale and tragic shoulders, and her
full crimson lips part slightly, to taste the
soul streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of ecstasy,
I remember her.
It is a night of dark desire, a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their howls. The beautiful one
rises.
Darkness shrouds her pale form,
an everlasting desire.
Her midnight hair cascades over
pale and tragic shoulders, and her
full crimson lips part slightly, to taste the
soul streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of ecstasy,
I remember her.
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