Literature
Ghost of Thy Soul
The Cerulean dome fades,
to be died an ebony blue.
The wind brushes past gently,
it's body an invisable hue.
Pelt Swaying rhythmically,
the moon reflects it's shine.
Body of lusterous steel,
now is the perfect time.
Eyes of a deep navy tone,
blend with the crisp night air.
Searching upon the barren fields,
with an icy dismissive glare.
It springs forth from the shadows,
from where it has remained concealed.
A forbidden joy rekindeled again,
crossing the temptatious field.
Light streaked down from lunar,
cascading across thy soul.
Memory forever to be imprinted,
in a heart as black a coal.