Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Like a dream in a shroud of darkness,
I am confined and bound;
the residue of secrets
lost in the mist of ancient haunts.
The cobblestones, sweaty and dank,
footprints forgotten
silent... mute
pallbearers descend
survivors of the plague, but
dead nonetheless...
and I know that I shall never know
the name of tomorrow's victim,
face pink - blood rich,
I suckle and kiss with the wildest abandon,
seasoned with the salt of their tears.
Replete and replenished,
I live through their eyes -
their foolish expectations,
their infant fears, pursue me
like a dream in a shroud of darkness.

This has to be one of the best Vampir poems i've read.

I applaud you Constantine for a job well done.

thanks perdida. i'm happy that you liked it!

i've gotta cross

don't even try it

dino, you sound as Poe as Baltimoe

notice that I didn't say Poeish

I admire how you adapt to different styles

(ok, this is where the vincent price organ music drops in)

i wrote this in treatment around three years ago.
thanks doreen. put away the cross - i'm an atheist vampire.
clay, thanks for the compliment - a very nice one.

This one bites so veddy veddy goot!!!!!!
H