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.
Her eye’s like dying embers burn within my soul
with her lips still lent over my broken body
I weep for my lost and forgotten mortality.

She is as beautiful as any other to me
in these eternal eye’s of mine
in which she brings tears to the surfers
with her deep moves and flow.

To be as she 
the night movies with her shadow
her image scratching on the walls around me.
Leaving a wound inside my heart 
watching it bleed out before me.

To be as she
A beauty with a darkened form lurking on the edge of night.
I can't help but to love her eternal shade
her beauty kills my mood.