it is a night of death
a song of blood
wolves vent there howls
the dark one awakes
wisps of death shroud her pale form
an eternal desire
her raven hair
cascades her pale and delicate shoulders
and her full blood red lips
part slightly to taste the blood
streaming from the pale form beneath her
now a night of darkness she thirsts
YOU ARE READING
Emo poems
PoetryDepression is a great part of my poetry. Some of these poems are mine, and some aren't.
