She sings into the darkness,
Echolocating souls into madness.
Ornate scales cascading into gold,
Obsidian skin, iridescent and cold.
Midnight hairs black and blue,
Creating illusions, vivid and true.
A kiss, a bite, a lasting sleep,
Gilded curse, ethereal and deep.
Eyes like galaxies locked in a dream,
Walking past shadows, silver's gleam.
She bends the moon in lover's sigh,
Folding the night beneath her thigh.
Not beast, not God but something more,
A myth with fangs, crossing folklore.
Wings of doom, elongated and sharp,
Claws that bleed fire, scorching the harp.