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a vampyric poemRate this Poem
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Blood Lust
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Created on 8-27-07
Blood LustIt starts as a thought,As a slim passing fancy,Of a remembered time,Of drinking and dancing,But not of the drinking,In the traditional sense,But the true kind of lusting,Of past and present tense,A diabolical hunger,That threatens to engulf,All thought turn to drinking,Of and innocent pulse,For the dull *thud…thud*That the trained ears can hear,Then the intake of breathWhen you simply appear,The crushing and splitting,Of tissue and bone,In your deadly embrace,They can do naught but moanAs you look in their eyes,You can see them accept,That when you are lusting,You never respect,The first drops are pain,And all victims scream,But they al quiet soon,And fall into a dream,As the dark crimson flows,Dried up and vanished,Your red eyes rolled back,All reason was banished,And you ripped at the flesh,Like a savage beast,Feeling denied,Of your final feast.
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