Lips slightly parted
as soft moonlight dances.
Her eyes gently close
while life waits and looks on.
This breathless beauty
her spine gently arches.
A kiss softly silences
innocence gone.
A wolf bays with pleasure
untamed is his passion.
Hot breath wildly panting
a nightingale sings.
Far off in the distance
her sanity wavers.
As groans drown the sadness
such pleasures can bring.
Ecstasy heightens
the moment is coming.
When wolf and sweet angel
unite, become one.
In violent surrender
the angel stops breathing.
Aroused by her madness
death sings her last song.
Reah Roberts ©2010
Tales From Behind A Cushion 
“A wolf bays with pleasure, untamed is his passion…”
Wow, this is really genuinely Gothic without the over-kill of Gothic. So, who’s the lucky wolf, Reah?
Thank you for sharing this poetry with us all here.
Oh, yes, I got the subscription notification just fine. Thanks. 😉
Hello You…Thanks so much for reading this..As for the wolf..Ah that’s a tricky one..Sometimes I believe it’s the darker side of me..Kinda kinky some would say, but it goes much deeper than that. On the flip side anyone who feels an affinity with this poem is welcome to lay claim to that role….Within us all is a beast, and the imagination is such a wonderful thing…’twould be unfair not to share it :O)
Maria xx