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She moves through shadow, silent grace,
A specter caught in time’s embrace.
The moon, her keeper, cold and bright,
Whispers truths she’s known each night.

Love—she laughs, a hollow sound,
A myth where mortal hearts are bound.
For in the dusk where specters tread,
Affection wilts, its embers dead.

Her hands, like marble, deathly pale,
Could never warm nor weave a tale
Of tender touch or sweet refrain,
For love requires both warmth and flame.

The night is hers, a lover lone,
Yet never speaks in tender tone.
No sunrise kiss, no lover’s vow—
Just endless dark that binds her now.

She watches humans love, then fade,
Their fleeting passions, hopes conveyed.
Yet for herself, she knows too well,
In night’s cold clutch, love cannot dwell.

The velvet night, a whispered call,
He stirs within his shadowed hall.
No mortal blood, no beating heart,
A timeless soul, set far apart.
His eyes, two embers, softly gleam,
Reflecting back a forgotten dream.
A hunger deep, a thirst untold,
For stories whispered, ages old.
Through silent streets, he glides unseen,
A phantom grace, a nocturnal queen.
No coffin waits, no dusty crypt,
Just starlight on his pale lips slipped.
He drinks the quiet of the air,
The ancient secrets hidden there.
A gentle sigh, a wistful gaze,
Lost in the moon's ethereal haze.
For immortality, a heavy cost,
A world of warmth forever lost.
Yet in his being, calm and deep,
The long, unburdened centuries sleep.

COMMENTS

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Cadrewolf2
03:30 Jun 04 2025

wow

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