The Marble Path

A black wraith so gentle as it sifts through time. Eyes of molten ruby pulse with the finesse of cruelty and remiss. Grayish cloak to cloak the foggy wisps of its essence, and the mirage of its sinister grin is only fallacy to its thoughts.
The hems of its robes dark brown with coagulated blood, yet dripping ripe life from the flesh of which the wraith devours. Tantalizing scratches from tenacious knives, but the knives are just his darkened fingernails. Silver blades shrouded in opaque shadow.
Remorse nonexistent in the shoulders of the marble path on which this shadow wraith trods. Crimson candles are evenly spaced one foot between the next on either side of his strides. So strong...and so calm...an enticing beauty in the dark glen of mystery.
And only mine and his thoughts exist here. I remain asleep for a time; then awake with his molten eyes staring right through my ice-gray eyes like a raging inferno.
He knows me.
I am cradled gently in his diamond strength as his caressing arms encase me for safekeeping.
His steps are sure...as he continues walking.
I fall back asleep.