Alone as a stone cold altar

 The castle and its keep

 Like faerytale dominion rose

 A widow to the snow peaks

 Wherein reclined the Countess

 Limbs purring from the kill

 Bathed in virgin white and like the night

 Alive and young and unfulfilled

 

 Was it the cry of a wolf

 That broke the silver thread of enchanted thoughts?

 Of Her life as a mere reflection

 (As the moon's in narrow windows caught)

 That opened like dark eyelids on

 The sigh of the woods that the wind fell upon...