Sun retires for the night, and

with a Blunt closure leaves

its final gift, shining in all its glory:

her final moments of

golden Innocence which left

pricking the flesh with her

final rays. And I lay there,

heavy with guilt, motionless as Sun's

ripened sister Moon took over, and still

down low still lay a patch

fresh red fruit: not yet picked

and set to mold. In a

papered-green haze comes

my Nocturnal prince, like a vampire

to his victim; she who walks

the night, blind to his shadows.

And on a thin pallet,

he Feasted on the sweet

Scarlett beads

until satisfaction filled him;

became her. The screams broken

by silence and drowning in wanton moans

as Moon watches blowsily

because she knew sister Sun

was for once gone. How she grinned

that thin eclipse grin

greedily at her entertainers,

as she crept through the dark room

which they shared as if to join

the girl and the Nocturnal man

she encouraged

The prince returned,

for every night his appetite increased,

leaving her with vehement

desires.

But, when Sun came once again,

this time accompanied by

deep gray mass

He left, and leaving Her

with a final deep wound,

departed for another victim;

all in vain.