Vampire (poetry) I

Clouds are drifting overhead
But I can’t behold the beauty
Because I am dead
Oh! The one who cast me down
Dark, draped, dead too, was he
With many dripping thoughts
And when I was caught I did plea
Please! For my life to be spared of him
Running through the deserted streets
Praying for the righteous dawn
But strangled and raped-my body he beats
Out! Lost is my spirit before the end…
I lay in pain on rusty nails
And dream of my lover’s safe arms
As into my skull, a cross he nails
No! And I can’t hear my screams
But I feel the soil thrown
Light fades though my eyes are open
Together my lips are sewn
So I cannot scream when I wake…

For more read: Vampire II & III

All Original Poetry
Robyn Eggs
Copyright 10.13.2019

“If I could tell you the story, I would. But it hasn’t been shaped yet. The shaping of it. Has yet to pour from the lips of you. For, from what I can tell of you. You mean to slice it up into mashings and thrashings of the irrelevant. Not much more for there to be said, but should…”

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