This poem is based on a story that I'm about to post up so keep waiting a little while and it'll be there!

The Last of the Blood

The last of her Blood,
The Dark Ones rejoice
Here we lie waiting
Waiting for her to make that fatal choice

As time shifts forth
She shall be drawn
Drawn to our will
To that fatal dawn

She'll turn to the Dark Side
And we'll break her
If she refuses as her sister did
Know that we'll make her

The spirits still moving
We plague her mind
A filth and disease
Until she's refined

O'er time
For her we shall define
The meaning of horror and pain
We shall end the life of the last of her kind!

Her Blood shall fall!
Written in prophecies aged
As will the Jedi
Each of them shall fade!

The Sith has risen!
We shall live again!
To await her presence...
To send her to the end!

When the Jedi arrives
In her we shall spread terror!
And, when she falls among us
She shall realise her fatal error!

Now we crouch
In the darkness within,
Waiting for the Jedi,
Waiting.