The Vampire - A Poem for Halloween
He walks in death, his silver claws are sheathed, soft to the touch.
His mouth is closed. Those ruby lips, those lips have kissed too much.
The grace and subtle charm he has, deceiving innocent eyes.
He smiles at them. A smile of blood, hiding a soul of ice.
The women with the flowing hair follow him with their gaze.
Their mouths are hiding fang-like teeth, their breath warm on his face.
Fusing him with sulky stares they move to let him pass.
For they are dead and he will find some living flesh at last.
Around his grave the sun may shine, around his headstone loved ones weep.
The echoed empty holy words still ring - he will not sleep.
As blackest night approaches, the throbbing life he'll take.
He'll leave a train of frozen hearts with stillness in his wake.
by Lorainne
His mouth is closed. Those ruby lips, those lips have kissed too much.
The grace and subtle charm he has, deceiving innocent eyes.
He smiles at them. A smile of blood, hiding a soul of ice.
The women with the flowing hair follow him with their gaze.
Their mouths are hiding fang-like teeth, their breath warm on his face.
Fusing him with sulky stares they move to let him pass.
For they are dead and he will find some living flesh at last.
Around his grave the sun may shine, around his headstone loved ones weep.
The echoed empty holy words still ring - he will not sleep.
As blackest night approaches, the throbbing life he'll take.
He'll leave a train of frozen hearts with stillness in his wake.
by Lorainne
posted by Lady Fotherington-Smethers at 1:27 AM
6 Comments:
Ahhhhhhh!
So you're a writer!
Fabulous!
Sounds like you had a good night last night :)
Cx
Worthy of Bram Stoker himself.
Thanks for the vote of confidence C & cw!! A pity there is no money to be made from writing poetry...unless you are Seamus Heaney of course.
BEautiful and chilling.
As for the money are any of us in it for the money? Surely we'd have given up yars ago if so.
Really great and dark! Good!
I love it!
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