On a hill beneath a silver moonlit sky,

  Appeared a demon, with beauty to terrify.

  His face sculpted by immortal hands,

  His eyes, twin abysses, flames that command.

  A young woman, alone, lifted her gaze,

  And saw the being who broke her life's haze.

  She told the tale, her lips trembling with fear,

  But no one believed her vision so clear.

  Years passed, as the wind sang its tune,

  Each night she climbed, her heart in a swoon.

  On the silent hill, she awaited his return,

  But the demon remained a shadow, a love to yearn.

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  Forty winters marked her silvered hair,

  Her faded hopes etched in a face worn with care.

  One night of despair, on the brink of her end,

  She sought to leave this world, her pain to transcend.

  But a hand, gentle as an ancient dream,

  Touched her shoulder, breaking her scheme.

  She turned, and saw him once more,

  The demon, unchanged, as stunning as before.

  That night, beneath the starlit sky,

  They shared a sacred embrace, souls set to fly.

  Time stood still, their spirits aflame,

  At last, she found peace in love’s sacred name.

  Months passed, and joy began to grow,

  Her belly rounded, a miracle to show.

  With hair now white, her days bathed in light,

  She carried a child, her happiness so bright.

  Nine moons rolled by in shadow and fear,

  And at last, the child, robust, appeared.

  But his first cry rang like a funeral knell,

  For the mother departed, her final farewell.

  The demon returned, silent and strong,

  He took the child, love’s painful song.

  And beneath the glow of a mourning moon,

  He vanished, leaving the hill in eternal ruin.