Alone as a stone cold altar The castle and its keep Like faerytale dominion rose A widow to the snow peaks Wherein reclined the Countess Limbs purring from the kill Bathed in virgin white and like the night Alive and young and unfulfilled
Was it the cry of a wolf That broke the silver thread of enchanted thoughts? Of Her life as a mere reflection (As the moon's in narrow windows caught) That opened like dark eyelids on The sigh of the woods that the wind fell upon...