The Vampire Lord
Vampire of the dark Coven,
a hunter of blood and death,
he heeds the call to hunt us all,
and steals the final sigh of breath.
Princes trembled and enemies fled,
and dreams and visions of power fed
until the time his evil arose
within the dark light of his ghost.
Who flies at you in the darkness,
to kill you, scare you,
haunt you, hunt you?
There in the shadows, a shadow in itself,
a blackened heart, wills to feed upon you.
Run if you can...
Run if you dare...
Run if you try;
he'll beat you, eat you,
kill you, drink you.
The black-hearted monster,
resembling demons of lore,
whispers,
"I know where you are,
I smell you,
taste you even more..."
Who lies to you in the darkness,
whispering in your ear to scar you, hurt you,
bleed you?
Fairs in silent shadows, a shadow in itself,
a weakening heart, he feeds upon you.
Breathe if you can...
Breathe if you dare...
Breathe if you try,
he'll haunt you, stop you,
bleed you.
Trust darkness once,
Death is sure to come 'round later;
trust it just once,
the wreath is sure to hang you later...
The wounds mending themselves with pain...
whisper that you're curse has just begun.
And hunger and agony cause you to wake,
for now you are naught but madness, for YOU are none.
12.12.08
YOU ARE READING
RIP
PoetryTwisted. Fearful. Beating. Harmony: Dark imagery of an ex-psychopath written in poetry. Rest in Peace, my little straight jacket. Enjoy the reading, my friends!
