***ous Thirst

It is a night of ethereal pain, a song of dark desire,
wolves vent their pain.
The beautiful one rises.
Curling, icy wisps of death shrouds her pale form,
an everlasting wrath.
Her raven hair cascades over
translucent ivory shoulders, and her
full deeply crimson lips part slightly, to taste the
death streaming from the
barely pulsing flesh beneath her.
At last, the murderous thirst is filled.