She always walks enchanted wood
Always in her crimson hood
Her lips of red, her flowing hair
Every night I see her there
From a distance, scent so sweet
A cracking twig beneath her feet
Hunger always, every night
Sweetest fruit I long to bite
I gaze on her with eyes of red
Fevered thoughts all through my head
I salivate, my hunger grows
I wonder if she truly knows
Are these walks a tempt of fate?
Alone she comes, and always late
When silence reigns, no eyes around
Is she longing to be found?
To be devoured in the night?
An offering without a fight?
Does she lay and dream all day?
And hope to be my lonely prey?
I lay and wait, cloaked in the dark
My jaws, they long to leave a mark
Embrace the hunt, embrace the thrill
To know her flesh and eat my fill
For it’s the nature of the beast
Within these woods I’ll have my feast
© The Beginning At Last
The Beginning At Last 
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