Night is falling Cold vampire

Night is falling, twilight turns to grey, 
Stars give no light, their edges fade away. 
There in the darkness, just before first dawn, 
Through misty night—you rise and you are drawn.

Your gaze—like arrows—strikes with fearless aim; 
My body burns, as if bewitched by flame. 
You bite my neck in silence, close and slow, 
As though a black-haired lock could make me glow.

Your tempting lips—like countless shards of ice— 
They blind, unhinge the mind… and yet suffice. 
So cold a vampire, hungry with desire— 
All of your victims moan and burn in fire.

Cold vampire—yet in me a wildfire grows; 
I’m your forbidden, dark and sudden blow. 
Fangs on my skin—the night moves in with heat; 
Take me again… don’t speak… just make it sweet.

The sun comes up—you’re gone, not by my side. 
Where do you wander, vampire, sad-eyed? 
I taste your scent—of sweat and blood so near, 
Though you are cold as ice cream, rich and clear—

Spiced and sweet, with bitterness in tone… 
What should I do today, here all alone? 
I melt in flame like some fragile shard of ice, 
In this mute spring of vampires—cold and nice.