• Dark Love

    It is a night of dark desire, a song of subtlety,
    Wolves vent their loneliness, the beautiful one rises.
    Mist shrouds her pale form, an everlasting desire.
    Her ebon hair cascades over pale and delicate shoulders,
    And her full crimson lips part slightly,
    To taste the life streaming from the pale flesh
    Beneath her. Now a night of ecstasy, I thirst.

    ­ BK