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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: Femme Fatale

  • Nightfall Serenade | Gothic Vampire Love Poem by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    🩸 Author’s Note

    The second installment in my “Nocturnal” series — a four-part descent into dark romance and immortal longing. “Nightfall Serenade” continues the story begun in “Nocturnal Waltz,” tracing the ache of distance and the echo of a love that transcends life and death. It’s a serenade for those who have loved ghosts, gods, and impossibilities — and called it devotion.

    A vampiress and her human lover share a moonlit embrace on a misty gothic balcony.
    Two worlds intertwined — one mortal, one eternal. A serenade beneath the stars.

    Nightfall Serenade
    Poetry by Rowan Evans
    (June 9th, 2024)

    You and I, from two different worlds,
    Mine amongst the living, yours the undead.
    We met at a ball, danced a nocturnal waltz,
    A time, I hoped would never end,
    But then, in an instant, you were gone.

    Where did you go, my love,
    My goddess of the night?
    Why did you leave, my love,
    My Gothic dream?

    Every night, you’d come to me,
    It was real, more than just dreams.
    The way you embraced me,
    It made me feel, so safe with you.
    An endless dance, just the two of us,
    Me and you.

    In the moonlight’s gentle glow,
    We’d whisper secrets only the night could know.
    Your touch, a cold flame,
    Burning with a passion that knew no name.

    The air was always thick with jasmine,
    A fragrance that told me you were near,
    Its scent a silent promise,
    Of your return, of our love, eternal.

    Every night, with you,
    It was my dream come true.
    Nyx, my Gothic dream,
    It was just, me and you.

    It was your dark aesthetic,
    That drew me in, the fangs and bat wings.
    You were everything I wanted,
    You became everything I needed.

    You and I, from two different worlds,
    Mine amongst the living, yours the undead.
    We met at a ball, danced a nocturnal waltz,
    It’s you and I, until my bitter end,
    My goddess of the night.

    Nocturnal Waltz
    A fleeting, intoxicating moment between a femme-fatale vampiress and her human lover, where shadows, desire, and danger intertwine in a nocturnal waltz of longing and seduction.

  • Nocturnal Waltz: A Dark Romance Poem of Desire & Danger

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Nocturnal Waltz captures a moment I can’t stop imagining: the instant a femme-fatale vampiress meets her human lover for the first time. It’s a collision of worlds—dangerous, intoxicating, and utterly irresistible. I wanted to write the kind of encounter where time collapses, where every glance and touch feels like a promise and a warning all at once.

    There’s something thrilling about the first spark of desire, the delicious tension between curiosity and caution. In this poem, the night becomes a character, the shadows a partner, and the music of attraction a rhythm that no one can resist.

    This is for anyone who has felt the pull of someone who is simultaneously terrifying and magnetic, for those drawn to the edge of their own desire, and for readers unafraid to let the darkness brush against their fingertips.

    — Rowan Evans

    Vampiress and human woman dancing in a moonlit gothic ballroom, shadows and romance swirling around them.
    “Nocturnal Waltz: The first, intoxicating meeting of a femme-fatale vampiress and her human lover.”

    Nocturnal Waltz
    Poetry by Rowan Evans
    (June 9th, 2024)

    Fangs and bat wings,
    She was a Gothic dream.
    With lips, redder
    Than the river Styx.
    She was Nyx,
    Goddess of the Night.

    Her dress, woven from shadows,
    Flowed like ink in water,
    Each step she took,
    A whisper in the darkness,
    A promise of secrets untold.

    And she was enticing,
    Had me in a trance—
    Watched her move,
    Elegant and slow,
    As she eyed everyone in the room.

    The air was thick with the scent of jasmine,
    A fragrance that clung to her like a ghostly shroud,
    Wrapping me in its intoxicating embrace,
    Binding me to her, body and soul.

    Now, her eyes,
    Fixed on me. I couldn’t even move.
    In an instant,
    She was towering overhead.
    I was shaking,
    But I was smitten to the core.

    She took me by the hand,
    And we danced—
    As everything faded from view.
    It was her and I,
    Nobody else in the room.
    And we danced—

    Her touch, a silken noose,
    Binding me in a dangerous embrace.
    Her eyes, twin pools of midnight,
    Held stories of centuries past,
    Of loves lost and battles won.

    She was gone,
    As quick as she appeared.
    She was a Gothic dream.
    With lips, redder
    Than the river Styx.
    She was Nyx,
    Goddess of the Night.

    If you have made it this far and want to check out more of my poetry, you can find it [here].

  • Muse of Mayhem – Dark Neo-Gothic Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    If you know me in real life and you read this… no the fuck you didn’t.

    Author’s Note

    There’s something about her that disarms me. A magnetism wrapped in mayhem—smirks and spells and unapologetic fire. I didn’t mean to be drawn in like this. Didn’t mean to find arousal in her chaos or reverence in her rage. But here I am, offering myself like a willing sacrifice—not for her approval, not even for love, but because she moves something in me. She reflects the darkest, most delicious corners of my soul—the ones I’ve spent a lifetime hiding, or worse… watering down.

    When she said she wanted him to watch her fuck another man, smiling the whole time, I didn’t hesitate. I volunteered. Not just because it turned me on (though it absolutely did), but because in that moment, I wanted to be her weapon. Her ritual. Her revenge.

    It’s not just the fantasy. It’s her. The way she owns herself—raw, untamed, unfiltered. She feels like a mirror made of fire.

    And maybe…

    Just maybe…

    I’ve always been a little flammable.

    Gothic portrait of a powerful, seductive woman standing in a shadowy garden with flickering flames and starlight in the background, representing chaos and desire.
    “The Muse of Mayhem: fury, desire, and chaos embodied in one magnetic figure.”

    Muse of Mayhem
    Poetry by Rowan Evans
    (Written May 16th, 2025)

    She laughs, and the world wilts—
    a garden set ablaze by a careless smile.
    I swear the shadows lean closer
    just to hear her whisper curses
    with venom on her tongue
    and starlight in her eyes.

    She is fury made flesh,
    a witch with war in her hips,
    and I—
    I volunteer as tribute.

    While you spoke of
    watching him gasp his last breath
    in bitter silence,
    I was biting my lip in awe,
    moaning at the sight of your wrath—
    divine, deliberate,
    beautiful.

    You said you’d fuck another man
    while making him watch.
    You smiled.
    I offered my body
    like a knife to your altar.
    Burn me,
    bury me,
    brand me—
    I’ll still crawl back,
    hungry for more.

    No one’s ever mirrored
    my taste for chaos
    with such elegance,
    no one’s ever made me feel
    so seen
    in my darkness.
    You speak,
    and I turn to ash
    willingly.

    Muse of mayhem,
    witch of want,
    curse me with your presence again—
    I’ll beg.
    I’ll bleed.
    I’ll write you
    into every forbidden stanza
    until even the moon
    blushes at your name.