A poem about a vampire's fatal kiss. |
Sitting quietly by a stream, A girl of maybe seventeen Is weaving daisies to a chain When suddenly it starts to rain. She sighs, and thinks to run for home, But seeing she is not alone, Is met by dark and sinister shape Surrounding her, leaves no escape. The shape solidifies in human make, In fear her body starts to shake, He reaches out to catch her dress, And holds her in his iced caress, She feels the strength of his embrace, She feels his face upon her face, His skin ice cold, the scent of death Pours as steam from rancid breath Between two perfect bitter lips. He strokes her hair as his head dips. What vile abomination, this, To place upon her throat a kiss, To burn her tender flesh and bone And turn her mortal soul to stone? The child looks up with plaintive eye, Black clouds do gather in the sky, His shadowed face returns her gaze, His eyes as soot, his breath ablaze With potent undisguised desire, Her blood alone can quell his fire, Her blood alone can ease his pain, Once took cannot be took again. She softens slightly in his grasp And takes her final living gasp, He drops her gently to the ground, And neither now do make a sound. He'll have another time to kill, He leaves her now, he's had his fill. In death she lays upon the floor To weave her daisy chains no more. |