Work Text:
My Childe
By Angel as dictated to Joan Z
(inspired by Wolfy's WP)
My wayward childe
Hunts the night
A gypsy curse seals my plight
I call to him in my dreams
Worried o'r his foolish schemes
My golden Childe I drove away
I long for him, back to stay.
To feel his touch,
His kiss, his bite
To see his blue eyes in the night
I long so much to hold him near
I wonder if he knows he's dear.
Come to me, my love, my one.
Come before the night is done.
It is a call I cannot make
I must live with this ache
He love me,
He loves me not
A gypsy curse
Has cast my lot