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by horror Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #929767
a love that shouldnt have ever happend
it is the night of death,
a song of sorrow.

wolves vent their howls,
the immortal one wakens.

mist surrounds her pale form,
and everlasting desire.

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

now a night of darkness,
i remember her.
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