Haunted

***Question your heart, indeed ... yet never the desire within it.
Written for contest by GothicVampyress***

Oh dreary dawns,
of black feathered swans,
painting myself in her kisses
of stygian ruby,
dripping like blood incessantly
unto stars.

All seems motionless in
midnight,
dancing between silver lights;
twilight and frigid,
as cold as lost lover's lips.

Dead,
without lament.
yet never would I sing upon her grave;
with broken lilacs I script an epitaph
meant for angels,
fallen.

Byronic I've ever become,
haunted,
grotesque shades;
from heartache
past and new,
from winter's rueful winds blew,
darkening the skies beyond my doorstep
with somber tears.

Love me not for the man in this stainless glass tomb.

Prayer for the thorn that I am,
apparition
within the bloodstream of love;
I feel the fires from December nights,
remember and regret our bodies (like needle and thread) displayed in the clouds,
oh haunted ever I am,
by your beautiful shadow.