The Count and his Bride

He is just a man but clearly like no other,
a wanderer of time. Eyes shimmer like
fiery ruby quartz, skin pale like the
moonlight, hair like a ravens ebony wings.

A slave to infinite darkness. Isolated by
involuntary soltitude that secretly
steals his soul. Alienated in his fortress,
removed from the life he so wishfully desires.

Gazing from the shadows of his refuge,
overlooking the congestion of mortals.
Only seeking love for his once warm heart,
stigmatized by time.

The night screams beauty as he expels
to the sky, purposely searching for a
lowly peasant girl. Someone to share
his endurance of immortality.

He spots his spoil amidst the crowd.
The connection is instantasionous.
He swoops down from the deathly
sky to reveal himself to the potential of purity.

Snarling with white teeth, yet showing
remorsefulness to his actions.
Her fair skin radiates as he commits
to his quest. Crimson blood falls
down her neck.

The beauty was magical.
She screams with ecstasy,
as the reality of her fate
reveals itself. Now sealed by
the persistence of pandemonium.

Now able to share his stigmatized love.
She stands before him, his immortal bride.