Patience spent the whole night running away
from the shadow monster that dwells behind.
She trips- tears a hole in her knee-highs.
She wishes for wings like the dark fae.
Patience questions where her angel lay,
slain as the dusk rises again
in it's nightly reincarnation, then
his hands on her throat- not okay.
He leaves her breathing; The air is burning
inside her lungs. She watches the sky
as her eyes dim- she is almost dead.
The wind grieves her, all about churning
leaves over her and her soul. Now fly
away from here from the one who has fed.