The Master of Death
A curl of fingers,
A smirk of blood-stained lips,
A haunting laugh, seducing it's prey
The pale form glistening in the moonlight,
reaching out a hand,
begging, pleading
'come to me'
'Be Mine Forever...'
A chilling air does naught of disturbing the dazed-eyed prey,
With languid steps he reaches the bed,
draping himself over the lithe form of his seducer
The beauty underneath,
dainty and pale form it is,
squirms in the pleasure it receives from its chosen meal
A flash of a smirk and a glean in a poisonous emerald eye as the moon reaches its peak
With a flip and the pale form rests upon its prey
One last kiss with those tainted lips
then the swift plunge into a state of immense pain and soothing calm all at the same time
An image engraved in his head as the darkness creeps forward,
Green eyes, Innocent smile,
'Your mine now, forever.'
Okay so this is a poem about harry as the master of death. I just imagined if he accepted being the master of death he would be more tainted and i just imagined him seducing people to bed so he could take their souls... so yeah...
PlotterOfEvil