Your kind is ancient, your skill is an art
The belief of your existence
Is of which most have part
At the sight of dust, there's a smile on your face
For the darkness brings the urge for a particular taste
You lurk in the shadows,
Awaiting your next victim
This exotic taste is the fuel found within

You sit at his right hand
An feet or two, maybe three, no further
For he is ruler, king and also your father
His voice echoes through the walls of the covernant
With only a glance, he killed dozens of tyrant

The days are so beautiful,
Yet you are in dispare
For where the sun shines
You can never go near
A creature of perfection in every single way
Yet your beauty shines its radiance most at night than day
With skin so soft, the rays of light burns
And as is tradation,
To dust you'll turn




          

             *La Vida Love

I can hear the sound of your heart
Beating viciously
Against my chest
Hard fast rhythmic beats

I can sense the blood
Pulsating your beautiful vein
Ah so sweet
The fear in your eyes
Submits to fatal flaws conceit

Escape futile
As the thought
That escapes your putrid little mind
Dissipates upon air unseen

You scream
One last attempt at independence
But you belong to me now

Drink of my vanity
Eat of my contempt
Until your belly bloats
Of my seed bursting at the seams
Expelling a magnificence
Never before seen

And they
My seed
Shall feast upon your flesh
Until dawn
Manifest itself
And consummates
The last remaining memory of you

For surely the sun shines bright
Upon a new day

I can still hear
The sound of your heart
Beating
Viciously

As it fades

Lovely elves and charming witches
Wizards with great power
Sorcerers and dragons
I've read of these for hours.

Woodland imps and fairies
Their faces may seem pure
But these creatures are spirits
And they are meant to lure

Spirit guides and shamans
Fetishes and feathers
Burning sage and totums
Beating drums together

Werewolves and vampires
Voodoo dolls with porcelain faces
These creatures are monsters!
They have no redeeming graces!

HALLOWEEN IS WICKED!
Yet it is for SALE!
Kids dressed up as GOULIES
And DEVILS WITH A TAIL!

SATAN ISN'T BEAUTIFUL!
The devil  isn't CUTE!
HE'S HERE TO DESTROY US!
Yet we dress KIDS in his SUIT!

Yes, they are romanticized
The source of tons of ink
I've even written of them
A fact from which I shrink!

I repent of doing this
And as popular as they are
I will now delete them
I will no longer share.

I will not praise this "beauty"
Or perpetrate a lie
I've had some trouble reading
Now I know the reason why

These deceptions grieve The Spirit
My holy heart. My SOURCE.
These ideas are of evil
I will not endorse.

I could have done so quietly
Never made a show
But you need to read this
You really need to know!

I may seem a fool for writing this
You won't like this share
But if I'm now unpopular
I DON'T REALLY CARE.

And, Christians, be ye HOLY!
Think on something nice!
Think on God the Father

And The Lord Jesus Christ!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/27/2016

You've got fangs like a dog but you're ******* for blood.

The stars are falling from the sky
The moon no longer wains on high
It's grown dark and cold
For the sun has been sold
Darkness reigns
The demons run free, they're the few that remain
Human life is over
The Jinn dance on the clover
The lion will eat the lamb
The light no longer stands
The cloven hoofed one rules this world
The one with the horns that curled
The Banshee no longer screams
Everyones all ready dead it seems
The shadow men walk to and fro
With no particular place to go
Only the creatures of the night thrive
Eating off of the dead one's hide
Vampires slowly die
With no human blood supply
So demons, ghost and Jinn
Is all the company the cloved one has with him
What a sad creature he has grown to be
How he begs for the light to see

IT WAS 1712 IN THE PEAK OF JULY HEAT AND I WAS VOMITING INTO YOUR KITCHEN SINK THE BLOOD OF A SINGLE MOTHER. YOU LAUGHED LIKE I SHOULD HAVE ALREADY LEARNED ALL THE ROPES THAT YOU NEVER BOTHERED TO SHOW ME. “I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WOULDN’T HURT,” I SAID. YOU LOOKED ME IN THE EYE AND ANSWERED, “WELL YOU’RE NOT IN ANY PHYSICAL PAIN.” AS IF IT’S SOMEHOW ANY DIFFERENT THAN THE CATASTROPHE BUBBLING AND BREWING IN MY DECONSTRUCTED BRAIN.

IT WAS DECEMBER OF 1827 AND I  HELD YOU IN SHATTERED HANDS AS I SNAPPED YOUR NECK AS IF IT WOULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE. I WASN’T THE ONE WHO KILLED YOU BUT I WISH I HAD BEEN. YOU WERE WORTHLESS TO ME.

IT WAS THE FIRST REAL DAY OF SPRING IN 1922 AND YOU WERE EVERYTHING TO ME.

IT WAS 2016 WITH SUN-KISSED SEPTEMBER SKIN AND I WAS SWALLOWING BUGS IN OCTOBER PRETENDING LIKE I COULD POISON MYSELF WITH SPIDER LEGS AND MOTHS. YOU’VE BEEN DEAD FOR TWO CENTURIES BUT YOUR GHOST STILL HAUNTS ME. I’M WAITING FOR YOU TO BE REBORN AGAIN.

IT’S 3275 AND FOR THE SECOND TIME YOU’RE THE LAST THING I SEE BEFORE I DIE, AN OLD SOUL IN A NEW BODY, ALL THE MORE DEADLY. YOU WERE WORTH THE MILLENNIUM AND A HALF OF WAITING. I’LL KISS YOUR KNUCKLES BEFORE YOU BASH MY TEETH IN, AND THEN I’LL SAY THANK YOU. MY BLOOD HAS ALWAYS TASTED BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE’S ANYWAY.

The demons come in darkest night
To take your soul away.
They keep your body locked up tight
And then they start to play.
The vampires dance, the monsters fight
The werewolves howl ‘til day,
And your soul is left in shiv’ring fright.
At least, that’s what they say.

When demons come in blackest moon
To steal you from your home.
It’s always best to lock your room
And stay at home alone.
Who knows what horrid creatures’ tomb
May come for you and your bones?
So, lock your door and pray for noon,
For night’s when monsters roam.

If demons come when moonlight beams
And you aren’t quite home yet,
Oh traveler, beware the screams;
It’s you they’ve come to get.
And pray that nothing’s as it seems
And that it’s still sunset.
For, when moon is out all horrid things
Walk freely, as they’re let.

The stars are falling from the sky
The moon no longer wains on high
It's grown dark and cold
For the sun has been sold
Darkness reigns
The demons run free, they're the few that remain
Human life is over
The Jinn dance on the clover
The lion will eat the lamb
The light no longer stands
The cloven hoofed one rules this world
The one with the horns that curled
The Banshee no longer screams
Everyones already dead it seems
The shadow men walk to and fro
With no particular place to go
Only the creatures of the night thrive
Eating off of the dead one's hide
Vampires slowly die
With no human blood supply
So demons, ghost and Jinn
Is all the company the cloved one has with him
What a sad creature he has grown to be
How he begs for the light to see

Reckoning gaze, learning ropes, knotty pine encasement, knowing what the box looks like from inside is preeminent inimitable. I was so certain last year would be it. Likely even, I thought the same the year before and years before that, all whilst whittling away, planks of this coffin, scratching to get out. Sealed in a fate, this vampiric rising, doomed to eternity of night crawling. Yet, by no means has glamour of Hollywood realm flickered any sheen, this direction. Not all vampires can afford tuxedos. Grosgrain lapels, and red satin lined capes do do wonders for former stars of silver screen, but this succubus prefers his naked lot. Apparently, malignant rogues who lie amongst worms don't always have the wardrobe to go with it. New Year's resolution: a tuxedo, perhaps some tails, and somewhere to wear them.

Monsters dream
that unicorns get together with vampires,
while they dance and drink
under the moonlight.
.
The Gods see them and envy them
The Undergods see them and they laugh.
.
While they dance and drink
they die
under the moonlight, during the night,
they have fun at the speed of light.
.
Once they start
they don't stop.
Once they get tired
they drink blood.
.
Angels dream
that Heaven and Earth are one,
united under one flag.
They dream dreams,
they dream peace.
.
God hears them and hopes
The Devil hears them and he laughs
his *** off.
.
A father dreams as he works,
he dreams of better days.
.
A mother dreams as she cooks,
she dreams of silent nights.
.
A grandfather dreams as he smokes,
he dreams of a peaceful life.
.
A child dreams as he sleeps,
he's filled with hope as he plays.
.
A child's laughter is a dream,
a child sleeping is like peace.
.
A child's kiss is all that we need
to believe that those monsters
that dream of unicorns and vampires
are real.