Queen of Shades

Off the cuff sonnet for a brief candle who means more to me than she should.

I chose to love her as she drove me mad,

A fever dream that knew its cause as cure,

Yet even on awaking I am glad

To have possessed a tenderness so pure.

She was of ivory and raven haired,

An hourglass with redder lips than wine;

My wraiths surrounded me and I was scared,

She reached between them and her hand took mine;

Her blacker eyes than those among the fiends

Drank me my fill of courage in their glare,

The savage wolves whose instinct knew their Queen

Teemed at her feet for tender loving care.

  Thereafter not a demon could enthuse

  To torture me when we had lost our muse.