Each night I see her beauty standing there,
My sweet angel of purity and light,
And thus, I know love and want her care,
My broken heart again must turn to night,
And leave behind the dreams of beauty fair.
I am the darkness, she is innocent,
She drinks the fine wine as I sup on blood,
Her human heart could only be misspent,
As I crush her like some flowering bud,
Thus, I suffice on the hint of her scent.
Form: Sicilian Quintains