It is a night of ethereal pain, a song
of darkness, wolves vent their pain.
The beautiful one awakes.
Wisps of death shrouds her deathly form,
a lurking desire.
Her ebon hair cascades over
pale and delicate shoulders, and her
full blood red lips part slightly,
to taste the life streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of vitality,
I weep
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