THE VAMPIRE DREAM

They stay out in the dark river valleys,
They do not live but, haunt our dreams,
Of their kills they keep no tallies,
Revenge and bloodlust are their themes,

What sharpened hooks that bleed our necks,
That takes in life and exhale death,
No mortal signs can craft a hex,
To save our blood and human breath,

The vampires have a certain need,
Though they have immortal powers,
To quench their thirst they make us bleed,
Until, eternal sleep is ours.

P10212023

VAMPIRE POETRY

Out  in the distance between the days,
A Vampire was born,
He lived in visual night and haze,
A prince whom many scorn,

Those that journey out into the night,
Where the prince of vampires waits,
Must know he's there not for the fright,
It's the blood that satiates.

Blood drawn deep down from the neck,
By demons made long ago,
Creatures not fit for heavan or heck,
Unloved, undead they know.

Vengence is a lonely child,
Kept pregnant deep within,
When let loose it's mind is wild,
The base of original sin.