We rise,
on ocassion,
to drink the blood
of our brothers.

The original vampires
drink the blood of youth,
and bring about the
wandering
and
ill-placed
musings
of old age.

With bitterness
we control our own destinies,
it is not fate
that is cynical with luck,
it is us,
cynical because of fate.

When we take control,
finally
in the last days of men,
we will see compassion
for what it really was,
the Jesus,
the salvation,
the temptation
that we never wasted
our energy on.

I still think
that demons crowd the plains
of our thought,
like gazelles
waiting to be gorged upon.

Demons
keep us down,
keep us in the waterfall
of stupidity
and
self-loathing.

Don't look back,
the demons take control then,
they hold sway
when the juries of our souls
let them talk
without consequence.-