O! Zinaida!

A poem I wrote, inspired by Ivan Turgenev's First Love

The golden sun floats down and out of sight

The pulsing darkness lights her up with glee

This cold, despisèd love creeps 'round at night

And grasping it, Zinaida's found to be

A shoreline, where she stands 'round willow trees

Intoxication's gauzy screen drifts down

She smiles with a soft, sinister ease

The midnight queen who wears a cursèd crown

Your eyes fade into hers, she draws you in

A kiss of malice, tender hatred too

No sweeter thing known than her star-kissed skin

How can sweetness bloom where nothing is true?

A dance of lovecrushed ghosts swirls in her gaze

Zinaida loves in the cruelest of ways

Author's Note

I don't need feedback, unless there's something very wrong with the poem (: