Hair woven from from fires of hell,
Thy raven lips hold words one mustn't tell,
With a voice terrible, but soft like a siren,
Her hands left the Moon dying.
Forever starving, pleading,
For freedom, her soul left bleeding,
Forever roaming a forest, ever so shady
The cape of night is hiding the lady.
If you come close enough you can still see her,
Scarlet hair, Ivory skin, forevermore alone,
Hold her, there's no reason to fear her,
For as all things mystic, she'll dissolve at dawn.
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The Black Countess is a character I've been developing throughout the year and I'm very proud of how she's turned out. Don't forget to vote if you've liked this poem :) As always, thanks for reading c:
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