The Hunt

Trace your footsteps in the dust

By the light of the cool moon

Turn your face to mine, suspense lingers

In your sinister, deceiving love, your eyes capture mine

And I want you; need you

Red roses are for true love; it will change as dawn breaks

Black holes glint in the iris of my eye

In a face of chiseled stone

The ivory of teeth glimmer like starlight

Before sinking into hot, perfumed skin—

And the black rose drips with blood

As a fledgling writhes at the first toll of the knell

And is carried away into the dark, misty night

By the beautiful, graceful hunter seeking a huntress

The Prince of the Night has found his Queen.