Monday Jun 27, 2005

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It is a night of sorrow, a song of ethereal pain,
wolves vent their howls. The immortal one
awakes.

Death shrouds her pale form,
an eternal agony.

Her raven hair cascades over
pale and delicate shoulders, and her
full blood red lips part slightly, to taste the
darkness streaming from the
pale flesh beneath her.

Now a night of taking,
I hunger.

awen:
K, the last 2 journals are awsome...... these are the dark thoughts I find strange comfort in...to be alone is painful but less painful than all the other pain life brings....its a sweet comforting biterness...one to which I look forward the week after this. Im going to be a recluse for awhile. I miss it. I miss being alone, and quiet and still..... and I want to paint her...who has she bitten? mayhaps a redhead equally as pale, almost as mysterious..no longer to be in pain, no longer to be human...ooo and just a few freckles upon her now bluish cheeks.... kiss

[Edited on Jun 27, 2005 9:19AM]

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