Her white dressed figure dances in front of me.
The clouds that cover the night sky gently surround the night
I reach out to touch her beautiful face, the face of my love.
She is my world, my reason for existing in this accursed life of mine.
The way her long black hair curls down her shoulder blade plays perfect contrast to her scarlet lips.
As the moon slips past its curtain, I begin to wonder how they might taste.
My eyes wander from lips to neck as I ponder it further.
My mouth waters as it pulls into a beast-like grin.
Humanity reaches out, it's final attempt.
"Not again!" It screams, but it's too late.
"She's mine," retaliates the beast, and then it's complete.
The fear in her eyes screams for her in her paralysis.
My darling, you look delicious.
That once unwavering resolve has yet again vanished, lust taking it's place.
Her look of terror only fuels the fire burning within.
You look much better dressed in red, bathed in the tainted moonlight.
This is hell's banquet and you're on the menu, so decadent.
A tear of flesh; memorizing, hypnotic, liberating.
The primal need recedes as does the beating in your chest.
You were marvelous.