angelic insomnia: ice queen
Ice Queen
The man came upon her,
In the dead of night,
Her skin was white,
As cold as ice.
Her eyes stared pale,
Lips of ruby red,
She grinned, and laughed,
And shook her head.
And he followed her,
Into the forest,
Where among the entwining trees,
All other creatures were at rest.
She danced around him,
Beckoning him near,
Then fleeing away,
Into the dark so clear.
Only to return,
With that seductive stare,
Spirit of the night,
Nymph so rare.
She haunts the man,
Enchanted none the less,
Her beauty so stunning,
Creates a feeling of unrest.
She stops in the midst,
Of her wild dance,
Feels his heart beat strong,
The beginning of romance.
But this wild enchantress,
She comes to close,
She is lewered to death,
This pale ghost.
The man held her close,
Took her life and frowned,
As a solitary droplet of blood,
Fell to the ground.
Deepest, darkest red,
Against the pale white of snow,
The darkness which surrounds him,
Eternally seems to grow.
Wild enchantress,
To be no more,
Game of love,
Turned to that of war.
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Copyright Rebecca Page 1999.
