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The night is my roaming hours,
The moon has replaced the sun,
Blood is my lifeline,
And you are my latest addiction,
You sweet little prey.
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They told me there was blood on my wrists,
As though it had stopped there,
The pigment encircled my hands like a glove.
As though anyone could do this,
And there could be any part of them,
Not stained or dripping of damnation.
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Stop gazing upon me with those eyes,
The sympathy overwhelms your glassy eyes.
All I am to you is a sweet tragedy, right?
Cease.
Stop fucking scrutinizing me in that way.
Did you hear me?
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|Selenophile|
: A person who adores the moon.
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She is a plunging star,
Scorching the evening sky in her wake.
She's the shimmer,
On the moonlight-lit pond.
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Captivating creatures can not be confined,
At least not for eternity.
Her wings will unfold,
And she shall uncover the sky soaring past us all.
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The young one had havoc flying in her essence,
And lightening in her veins.
My endearing child, you, were made for raucous, enchanted things.
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YOU ARE READING
Bewitched || Alec Volturi
FanficMortals may have believed they had burned the witches on the stake hundreds of years ago. However, how would a simply puny human think they had to power to catch a true witch. A true witch has magic in her fingers and devilry dancing in her blood. ...
