Thursday 2 December 2010

Ode to The Undead | A Vampire Poem

A world exists mere mortals cannot see: 
That part of night whose darkness clings to me. 
So why not bring your life, so corporeal 
And let me show you all these things I feel?

Please wrap your arms around my neck, hold tight! 
There's nought to fear, sweet child, I shall not bite… 
…that is, of course, unless at journey's end 
You feel compelled to be my faithful friend.

What do you see as my eyes hypnotise?
I've found your soul; take leave, say your goodbyes. 
You open up, sense depth in all my years;
Can't comprehend? It says so in your tears.

So, from the start: I, too, had to be 'made';
A game of Life, in Death, still being played. 
My torrid end? No, that's all in the past; 
Lucky for you, that breath was not my last.

The pure blood of the damned became my prize: 
For he who’s chosen never really dies. 
You ask me how my skin's so cold, yet strong: 
It’s iron, dear; that does not make it wrong.

My cut of cloth, it's exquisitely sewn; 
I've wealth in banks, the property I own! 
My hair ne'er grows; I never need to shave; 
My lodgings? Free! I sleep within the grave.

Can you conceive the knowledge, myths and truth, 
That I have learnt reliving misspent youth? 
Eternal Life rewards its bearers well; 
Forsake it now and I'll damn you to Hell!

No more daylight for you; who needs the sun?
When time means nought, and night brings so much fun! 
Do I feel guilt for people whom I kill? 
No, I choose psychos, drifters and the ill.

Untainted blood tastes sweeter, yes, it's true; 
That's why, darling, tonight I've chosen you:
Your body chaste and oh, so pure in heart;
Surrender now and tell me where to start.

Give up your mind, its hopes, its fears, its dreams! 
Your racing pulse sends blood in gushing streams; 
Mine back to yours, entwined, the deed is done; 
We stand stripped bare, together, now, as one.

Ethereal senses flood you in a wave; 
No one on earth can force you to behave! 
A moonlit walk? Night, open up your doors! 
Cherish the dark; its playground is all yours.

Before we sleep, just one task still remains: 
Another's blood must fill your aching veins. 
The victim chose, you vanquish him in haste; 
It's your first kill; now tell me: how's it taste?

But quick, let's fly before we greet the dawn; 
Seek our solace, just leave his kin to mourn. 
Lay yourself down on silks and satins red, 
In this coffin, forever now your bed.

Sleep well and dream of this new glory found 
As daytime rules, and we lie underground. 
When your time comes, just promise me one thing: 
This fledgling song to your first mate you'll sing!

© Jerald Larson, 2012