Dark Love - Poem by Tamara Moir
It is a night of darkness, a song of death,
wolves vent their loneliness. The dark one
Curling, icy wisps of death shrouds her deathly form,
an eternal life, she leads.
Her midnight hair cascades over
pale shoulders, and her
full crimson lips part slightly, to taste the
blood streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
Now on nights of darkness,
I watch her gently float, as she searches
for her next victim.
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