The Edge Of Night

Riding upon the coat-tails of a

Benevolent breeze, wrapped in

The cloaking shadows with

Elegance and ease. Lithely

Leaping bracken walls beside

Those in forgotten wells, a

Deathly curse, he never befell.

A mere wisp of smoke, his

Blackened silhouette amid

Scarlet ribbons of sunset.

As swift as the wind his keen

Blade, scattering crimson dew

Into midnight shade. A dweller

Of baleful silence upon a throne

Of flesh and bone. Standing atop

Towering stairs, his daggers

Poised for an assassin's blood

Red affairs. His fleeting robes

Embracing the ailing arms of

Night, in his eyes a flash of

Minacious moonlight. Walking

Within the city's treacherous

Turns, past flaming sconces

Left to burn. A seductive

Slayer courting a scintilla of

Fear, from prey shedding not

A single tear.