My Sable

Her frame slender and tall
Her hair long to her waist, dark as coal
Her face ghostly as a long lost love
Her eyes pitch black as obsidian stones

A big blade on her back
An heirloom from the past
With all her power, the enemy she strikes
To regain all that she has lost

Her fangs come out at the thought of blood
Her eyes shut under the light of the sun
And although all the food tastes like ash
She still enjoys a good nighttime snack

Her beauty has no equal
Her fairness has no pair
She will drink out your soul
Leaving you quite dead