Curse Of The Enchantress

I curse the love you share with her, it shall never be the same;

she will live many lives, and not recall your name.

While darkness is your realm, she'll crave the sun upon her skin;

she'll need the light of day, where everything begins.

Your love for her will last forever, until you're turned to dust;

there will never be another, no one else will stir your lust.

The bond you share will grow stronger, each time her soul renews;

you'll be compelled to find her, have no choice but to pursue.

You will feel what she feels, all her joy and pain;

you'll be conscious of her energy, your auras will be ingrained.

From afar her heart will beat, pounding in your head;

the blood you crave will beckon you, while on this earth she treads.

Nowhere in the world will shield you from her call;

her soul will be a beacon, one you can't forestall.

Give to her forever or suffer when she dies;

bring her to the darkness or lament her demise.

To give to her eternity, won't be a simple task;

you can't steal her from the living, she must be the one to ask.

Time will be of essence, the flow of sand temporal;

the Harvest Moon will mark the day she dies or lives eternal.

Should you ever warn her, she'll meet her final death;

and you will fall to madness, wishing she'd draw another breath.