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I hate the end of this poem because I could not think of anyother word except feast -.-

You see a girl, in a long gown,
On her face she wears a frown.
Her sweet voice floats in the air,
It flows with the melody, like her hair.
She sings for help, she sings for love,
She sings a song for her black dove.
A small figure flies near,
It brings you so much fear.
She sings to it, lifts her hands,
In her palm is where it lands.
The figure and her become one,
The song she sang is now done.
A new song's sung, one of sorrow,
You'll forget about this by tomorrow.
Her gown slits as she growns wings,
The song gets louder as she sings.
Her hair turns black to match the night,
She leaps in the air, ready for flight.
Her eyes grow dark and empty as a black hole,
A glow forms around her, a lost soul.
Her and the dove are now complete,
In the air or on their feet.
The bringer of sadness and it's follower,
As you stare, her eyes get hollower.
A few tears tickle down her cheek,
A feeling falls making you weak.
She closes her eyes and whispers silently,
"This world shall be as dark as me."
All the plants and tress die,
Forever black turns the sky.
In your dreams she roams the land,
A black dove tattooed on her hand.
The sight of her brings you tears,
As she shares with you her fears.
Peaceful, sorrowful, alone and sad,
She warns you not to make her mad.
For in her rests a savage beast,
That would serve you at a feast.
To live her life, you'd die of fright,
Alone to live, in Forever Night.