Flowing crimson red,
the night carries her tenderly,
across the dark abyss.
Through the centuries,
legends are made in the telling,
of ghosts and ghouls.
An evil that grows,
and a lust that burns
leaving haunting passions breathless.
Her mystery is timeless
and her mesmerizing beauty devours,
in suffering and regret.
All is lost in a glance,
and souls like kindling
are sentenced and bound to forever burn,
Trapping unwary souls,
within her endless liquid depths
devoured by the scarlet heart of the blood moon.
~Mark Schutter ©2014
Poem #8 of 31 for October Poetry Writing Month, #OctPoWriMo