The Moonlight Romance

She lay on a black velvet bed, With black roses engulfing her face, That face so pale as moonlight, her lips red, A mirage she is, waiting for his embrace, So silent, a shadow, he enters the chamber, With silent whispers, so sweet and so deep, He walks up to her bed, his form grim and sombre, Caressing her head says he “sleep my love, sleep”. She raises her head and asks him to dance, His wonder too strong; he takes off his cape, And harpsichords play a moonlight romance, Intertwined they dance as the moon shifts shape His lust and her lust about to reveal, In a tight embrace with him she shall stay, Her virgin body and her mortal life he steals, Changed and cold she is, forever such to stay. Mortal she is not, he can hear her newborn heart, Now when he is of her kind, death can’t tear them apart, Two black shadows woosh into the night, ready for their feast, She is his countess, and he her lover, the beauty and the beast. THE WOLF’S LULLABY