l-effetti ta l-insomnia

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It is a night of sorrow,

a song of dark desire,

wolves vent their loneliness.

The eternal one rises.

Curling, icy wisps of death shrouds her stalking form,

a lurking dread.

Her black hair cascades overtranslucent ivory shoulders,

and herfull crimson lips part slightly,

to taste thevitae streaming from thepale flesh beneath her.

Now a night of ecstasy,

I smile vaguely.