artificial soul smiled with cruel cold as she paced,
measuring his darkness by the shadows
that he cast upon the broken
breathless night.
Past lives hung, dead-still and heavy from his robes,
emptied trophy skins that in their time and
turn had fed his mal-intent and lust for
stolen magyk still unbroken
by his touch.
His black portrait-eyes followed every fearful step,
devouring every move, as he spun a web
around the essence of her deepest
love and watched her fall
into the trap.
Soon he would make his final move and take her
slowly, just another soul-skin for his belt,
just another shadow cast upon a
breathless night broken
by his touch.
