Silently making her way through the grasses,
She thinks of the things the dances and sings,
approaching quickly o'er the hill,
Her voice carries far and makes the night ring.
She walks like shadows through the trees
Her gaze careful and precise,
She watches from on far
Her loins alive in subtle vice.
She approaches the trees,
Her form may be glowing,
She's too cute to leave,
And her blood's started flowing,
She stops, gasps in silence
The moon illuminates this childs form
The image of perfection if ever seen
The rise has yet to come
Stepping, Like dancing,
She looks through the trees,
She's sure somethings there,
Maybe the breeze?
Slipping back, running home
Afraid? Excited? Confused...
Her thoughts are of angels
Of godesses and the muse.
She runs after the sound,
Chases what she thinks,
Is an animal through the wood,
She's almost there, on the brink.
Back home and safe in bed
Safe from the angel of the night
Her heart beats fast, calling
To that perfect angel of the night
She follows the sound,
And finds the little den,
She strolls right in,
She fears no men.
A presence felt within her heart
The angel has returned
Without pause she goes to see
All fear and caution burned
She finds the maiden there,
crouching in the corner,
her eyes burn wild and bright,
She thinks she may just join her.
Slow but without fear she aproaches the angel
Timid as she feels, she must look away
How pathetic she is in this presence
As pale as stars in the day
She keeps aproaching softly,
Says: Do not be afraid,
Her voice rings through the den,
Starstruck, is the maid.
Profound as their joining is
She seeks the angel's embrace
All her grief and pain and sorrow
Wiped like tears from her face
So odd is the maiden,
The goddess feels unsure,
This maiden feels so wild,
Obviously, She'll endure.
Feeling the angel's spirit
Still unsteady, not quite sure
Such legends of beauty and death
Such fairytale and lore
She reaches out to the maiden,
Her hand gliding through the air,
The maiden ponders,
As it brushes through her hair.
Lips touch softly
Sweetly, gingerly with care
The angel and the maiden join
New love, new power to bear.
Lovers they shall be,
Finally set free,
© Copyright 2016 Wolven Instinct. All rights reserved.
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Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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