To be as she

T’is a dark night of sorrow, and of eternal pain,
wolves vent their cry’s. The mistress rises.

Night shrouds her pale form,
of lurking fear. 

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

Now a night of shared vitality,
I thirst to remember her taste.

To be as she
Eye’s like dying embers burn within her soul
with her lips still lent over my broken body
I weep for my lost and forgotten mortality.

what she has done to me 
a shadow of betrayal grows as affections vanish. 
once we drank of innocence, 
wide-eyed and untainted; 
but her love vanished, 
into a sickening pool of bitterness - 
emotions twisted following pain, follow hate, and betrayal, 
this love burnt all to ashes, 

In a torrent of sorrow, 
I still loved her in vain 
as my sorrow twists into hate, and pain.