She is red as a burning fire.
She is dark as a lonely night.
She will be my eternal fight
And my heart's deepest desire.

She is the light in my black space,
Fueled by the passing of time,
Maturing, once to be called mine
And be caught in this lone wolf's gaze.

She is a treasure ever sought,
That is more precious than fine gold,
Yet nowhere to be found or sold.
But still, lost battles are best fought.