the darkness I cling to
is easily gathered by the midnight madness
that is instilled deep within my empty heart

and my only thought is to speak of you

dark and ruthless
I am witness to your pleasured moans
as your blind mouth is lulled into sleep

oh poor disheveled soul

ravished by your lustful ways

and I
born a harlot of the night
upon bended knee
your heated desires
as my own

I can only warn you
that the night is now at hand

and we shall only reap
what the dark gods have sowed
for we have only known surpassing vanity

oh pray the earth and our sickened hearts
for we are nothing but dust

and I weep as a child for the past

spreading silence shot across empty skies
and the hills are left shuddering
such pale hands held on high
I toss my troubled hair to the northern winds

burnt burgundy lips
mouth so sweet so poisonous
tortured hands so white

I beg thee

reveal to me

that forbidden place

where the wicked meet the divine
these restaurant bins aren’t backstage wings
there are no dressing rooms
no overtures with spectral strings
this show contains no tunes
a brooding silence has been planned
to creep across the set
and dress her theatre of the damned
a sight hard to forget
and when she dimmed the lights to low
the atmosphere grew tense
it signified her vampire show
was ready to commence

the curtain rose on concrete sprawl
of city streets at night
past backdrop walls of spray paint scrawls
she entered from stage right
on grey mist dancing pirouettes
that drew her through the air
as dry ice clouds, in etiquette
might unveil something rare
with forked electrostatic
the supernatural sort
my flair for the dramatic
remains intact, she thought

and passing over street debris
of bottles, bags and cans
left and right she looked to see
her human leading man
who this dusk she’d meet to mark
their former glory days
before she’d betrothed unto dark
while wed to light he’d stay
their differences unreconciled
the rules, they’d found, could bend
and from each other’s worlds exiled
they’d stayed the best of friends

these paramours would rendezvous
away from sunlight’s glare
front and centre, bang on cue
and yet he was not there
arriving fashionably late?
he’d never be so rude
and not like him to make her wait
her mood became subdued
their human/undead peace accord
was due beneath this moon
no anniversary ignored
he’d be there surely, soon?

so, landing by a lamppost
she drew back slow her hood
her skin the white preferred by ghosts
her mouth the red of blood
and dragging fangs across her lip
she rolled her emerald eyes
her shadow hands his throat would grip
should he materialise
once face to face and cheek to cheek
she’d breathe into his ear
in Transylvanian, vampire-speak
“Long time, no see, my dear.”

this night they’d both vowed not to miss
and always kept their word
a warm embrace, a gentle kiss
no consequence incurred
for human touch and living skin
once every year, this night
she’d trade mortal for carnal sin
and promised not to bite
since love conducted on the sly
will keep its sense of fun
and that’s the second reason why
they kept it from the sun

vampires don’t turn into bats
as stated in folklore
but may in darkened habitats
use sonar to explore
it’s like the fabled siren’s song
unheard by human ears
that makes it known and whets the tongue
if haemoglobin nears
she sent it down the roads and walls
a plaintiff, high-pitched cry
a kind of vampire mating call
that garnered no reply

just sweepers sweeping gutters
from late night litter louts
the clang of closing shutters
as the neon signs winked out
and engines growling down the street
from taxis on the prowl
an urban fox caught indiscreet
by CCTV owls
that’s how the night proceeded
until the sky turned blue
and the street lights all conceded
having found they’d less to do

the problem is, if you don’t age
it’s hard to work out when
the last time was, it’s hard to gauge
what’s one year and what’s ten
since time moves in fast motion
in dark affairs of heart
with high costs for devotion
when dead right from the start
that’s how she came to realise
though she’d not aged at all
in one blink of vampire eyes
a mortal man can fall

her audience of one was gone
romantic lead had died
no roses thrown in great aplomb
no rave review supplied
the roles they’d made had now been played
with no awards to haul
and no cascade of accolades
just rows of empty stalls
the vampire life is hard to beat
until the debt is due
the price - a heart that just won’t beat
but can still break in two

this gaping hole she’d never fill
no matter the blood drawn
and so she waited patient, still
until first light of dawn
and as the glow of morning fire
stained the clouds like rust
this Nosferatu, vampire
became no more than dust
those paramours perhaps would meet
in heaven or in hell
and with the vampire show complete
the final curtain fell.
In your sun I know I'll drown
So I rise when it goes down.
Add all my years, I am so old
yet I'll never feel your cold.
Your punctured skin are signs you're dead
but that to me means I am fed.
I'll lure you in with fake romance.
The lies I'll tell, you'll take a chance.
Allaying your fears, I'll promise you years.
Then, muffled screams that no one hears.
So what you see as silver and gold
in reality, a death so cold.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Be careful what you wish for.
Bardo 7d
Caught in the spell of my Vampire Girl
Totally smitten with this one
   dangerous kitten
Calls me again to the shadows
Down these familiar backstreets to her    
Like some strange compelling music I  
   must follow
I have no choice but to obey.

Zombie slave to her voodoo woman
Can't escape, can't extricate myself
From this tangled web she's woven,
Her voice in my head, it tolls like a bell
   imperious, commanding!
That face in my mind, its dark visage
Her outstretched cup, her sweet sweet
Poem about addiction. It drains life and energy, hence the Vampire Girl
Tony Cortez Jun 13
German- Vampir
French- Vampire
English- Vampire

The word itself dates backs hundreds of years to Turkish descent and even beyond that.... Vampire

The amount of culture surrounding this one word is astounding and rich in lore

An undead immortal that preys on mortals for their blood, to live all eternity with an insatiable lust for blood.
Damned creatures without a soul

Vampires that is  

From movies dating back to bram stokers Dracula to current films such as blade and even the likes of twilight and TV shows such as vampire diaries

But those are only one tale of vampires, see amongst polish and Romanian culture they were known as Strigoi
Spirts come back from the grave to feast on the living

Its amazing really, all these variations
The English word vampire was borrowed from the French

I really wonder what it's like to be immortal
To be able to regenerate and regrow limbs
To have immeasurable speed and inhumane strength
All of this comes at a price, a hunger really

I think that amongst myths and lore, vampires might be the best reflections of ourselves, what it actually means to be human
To fall prey to vices such as lust and greed
Even the shedding of blood and causing harm to others

All an addiction, a hunger, an insatiable lust that we all have yet different amongst us all

My hunger.... that's simple it's her,  it always has been, the thing I've been searching for if I was a vampire she would be my ideal prey to caress, to feed off, to be with, and to fuck.

She is mine and she brings out the hunger in me so in a way she makes me into a vampire

My queen

But that's just mine....

The real question you have to ask yourself is
Are you in control of your addiction
Or does it control you?
Walking thru these lonely
corridors at night,
seeking some sense
and knowledge
to beam forth and
shine bright.

I look into your eyes
Mysticism at its best
If only we had a little longer
To rise and stand this test

This sentiment that burns deep within my bones
Leaving me voiceless
One among the drones

Tho they know,  deep down, which vices are my kin.
Please help me ,dear Lord,  to turn away from Sin.

So Dead do I turn to you amongst the flowers.
Please help me to turn and release myself from this prison.
About a vampire at Hogwarts or the catacombs.  Not sure yet.
Aa Harvey May 27

Beware, for I am the sinister taker of lives.
The evil among the fearless; the blood-thirsty surprise.
The bringer of death, go await me in your beds;
Your day of reckoning has come, but don’t lose your head.

For I only bring my deadly vampire kiss
And you’re a cynic anyway; in me you don’t believe.
You couldn’t conceive a notion, so unbelievable,
But the stories are true and I shall have your blood.

For I too have, my own carnal pleasures,
The sadistic psychopath, with a need to devour.
I shall sink my fangs, deep into your throat,
Or bathe in your blood; this is your final hour.

You were the headstrong, extreme tourist;
You never believed, in any of the stories.
A local legend born on fact;
Now this blood tax, I shall extract.

I am the foreseer of doom, saturated in blood.
The creeping hand in a forest full of fog.
So don’t wander off the beaten path and get lost in the dark,
Or I shall have to break your Mother’s heart.

Pale as snow and empty inside,
The blood has been drained, as was the life.
The spirit fought a losing battle.
You are merely food to me; you Humans are simply cattle.

Walking talking food, wrapped in flesh;
Never aware, you are taking your final breath.
I have risen up, to the next rung on the food chain,
For I am now the bringer of death and pain.

Gone from this world, to return a predator;
Free from Death’s scythe, forever and ever.
But now I must empty, the bodies around me,
Their blood is now mine and I must feed.
But now I have a new kind of lust;
A need to kill…
And a need to drink your blood.

(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
A proclaimed
Time Vampires

Accompanied by dogs
Shaking heads, Yes-way
Those forget to bark, but
Trained to shake tail

I purely believe

Me too
My niece said
Genre: Observational
Upon first setting eyes on him,
she thought she'd found her mate,
his skin was white as driven snow,
with eyes as grey as slate,
his musky scent reminded her,
of funeral homes and coffins,
his icy touch sent shivers down her spine,
it was arousing,

Seduction followed shortly after dinner,
on this night,
he hovered over her sweet breasts,
and killed the candlelight,
she felt his mouth caress her neck,
it bore a strange effect,
a tingle, then she felt a pop,
she felt he was erect,

A trickled stream of blood was licked,
away from her sweet breast,
a shock sent through her, climaxing,
before he let her rest,
she was entranced by his dark glare,
undressing for her master,
a dreamlike state was all she felt,
time seemed to pass much faster,

He took her body countless times,
before he took her soul,
she groaned for him, he claimed her life,
while he held all control,
another virgin plucked away so savagely from life,
a predator eternal, hunts at night for a new wife.......
jjjust another horror practice,
Oh glutton of sorrow
Nothing is ever sorrowful enough
One sorrow on another
Give me something to be sorrowful about, she cries!
When all is well ... All is not well with the sorrow glutton
Simply because there is nothing to relentlessly complain about
In her little corner of the world
Forever the victim she paints
Anyone willing to listen to her songs of sorrow
She will surely pull down with her
Into the depths of despair
A bottomless darkened pit
Virtual vampire of energy
Too lazy to live on her own fuel of life
To live off other people's sympathy
Oh it makes her thrive
Never does she utter a trusted word
For it is surely someone else's thought she stole
Blank canvas without a frame
Forming a collage
A collage of other people's personalities
Yet none of her own
The sympathy card she will play
Time and time again
Until you shout ... Game over!
Only then will she look for another to continue her sorrowful game
Written by Sean Achilleos
14 May 2018©
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
YouTube: Sean Achilleos

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