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Her Dark Arts...
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As the moon sits high
And the bats start to stir
You hear the silent creak
And the coffin lid lifts
Out climbs the macabre beauty
She picks up the black rose
On the table beside her
With a light rustle of skirts
Sets it on the writing desk by the window
A candle is lit
Parchment unfurled
She takes a raven quill pen
And draws the darkness...
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whee Not one of my best but an attempt to explain this avvie
 Ice_Loveless_ · Sun Jul 19, 2009 @ 06:38pm · 0 Comments |
