• It is a night of ethereal pain, a song of blood,
    wolves vent their pain. The eternal one
    stirs.

    Darkness shrouds her pale form,
    an everlasting wrath.

    Her midnight hair cascades over
    translucent ivory shoulders, and her
    full red lips part slightly, to taste the
    blood streaming from the
    pale flesh beneath
    her.

    Now a night of vitality,
    I weep.