Sunday, January 4, 2009

The Myth of Blood (vampyre poem #5)

black, gossamer wings shadow the moon,
devouring all light.
a terrifying shriek pierces the dark
and shatters the calm.
a human shape emerges as
the creature glides to the ground.
a thousand years have passed since
he hungered for youth and immortality.
now, he leads the life of the damned,
forever doomed to walk in shadows
and cursed to prey upon the blood of
innocents.

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