Tag Archives: evil

Dark Days Perhaps Fade Away – Poem#1 through 3 Collection


Poem #1

Snuggled down deep with the dark at our backs, intense heated light upon our cheeks while tales are told of places and times either long gone or yet to be of the bold; fighting, with either triumph or death to unfold in stories so unreal as to be real for truth lies in the darkest of tales, ever mercurial and seeking a willful ear…

 

 

Poem #2

Lost little monster of the dark auburn woods . She is hidden, ever hidden deep within. A hideous beauty.  Sweet dark girl with eyes that burn with a magic earned in dark fires held sway by an intense and longing angry pain. More fearsome than the darkness that seeks her or so she thinks. Beguiling and devilish yet unknowingly selfless. Just you wait, you’ll see. when the blackness truly and finally comes to knock upon all our doors and hers, she’ll be the only one strong to stand in its way.   To right the many wrongs of a life stripped away.

Poem #3

If there be real magic, I shall discover it in my travels upon my boat, with its sails made of flicks of flame billowing and full, pulling me across a crystal ocean through the night and day of this worn out world.  Alone I shall go, but you may accompany me  if you so wish. But please know dear companion, I shall seek that magic even if I should fall off the edge of it all to find a new more inviting place…

 

 

All poems by Philip Wardlow 2017

Monkey Girl


A thousand times a thousand,
I could tell her she’s beautiful
but her hands are pressedlarge_girl-monkey
against her ears,
as she hums
a silly tune.
I could smile her way
with sweet attention
eyes falling all across her
body in every which direction.
She’s blind to me,
as her hands are held tight
against eyes already veiled.
Tell me you feel something
Anything…a single thought
a broken dream…a wish unfulfilled
a desire drowned.
But you just grimace me a smile
and casually place your hands
over those luscious lips
that have never truly been kissed.
Oh, my little Monkey Girl

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Krampus Comes !! – A Dark Christmas poem


 

 

Krampus
Art by Brom

 

 

Be ye, young or old,

as a child of nine or ninety-nine

We all look to the magical time

when ol’ St. Nick comes a calling,

that jolly grey bearded man with a smile for all.

Traveling down the road  in his horse drawn sled

from  late dusk to early dawn.

The good ones know they’ll be visited by him,

adorned and wreathed with gifts from

head to toe.

They will sleep a peaceful slumber, full

of dreams of the bright morning to come

and the presents they so richly deserve

from a year of being so very very good.

I am afraid some may not be so inclined

at this joyous holiday time to partake of

all this festive cheer.

For you see, there are some children who lay deep in their

covers under the shadow of night as it plays

through their cold window pane,

waiting for him to come,

St. Nicks dark brother, the Other,

called Krampus to some.

This dark horned,  hairy tailed, cloven hooved creature

knows your heart of hearts

and all the naughty things you’ve done.

And he is not forgiving like

good ol’ St. Nick.

With bundled birch sticks in hand

he will greet you with a sharped tooth grin

right before he lays into your

skin,

To beat you about the legs and arms,

a sweet painful present for all your

year’s sins and wicked charms.

Then if you have been especially bad

and you know who you are.

He will take down his big black

ruck sack from upon  his back

Open it up, grab you up

and stuff you in.

Then quick out the bedroom window

he flies to disappear down the dark road

with you never to be seen

by your family 

ever again.

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2014

 

 

krampusWalking

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Evil Eyeball – 30 day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem A Day Poem#10


EyeBall

I see you evil eyeball in the dark,

You twitch , roll, spin and watch

Please stop your spinning to and fro

Or else, Squish! you go between bare toes.

By Philip Wardlow

Outside your Window – 30 Days of Halloween Poem Challenge Poem#9


OutsideDoor

Outside your Window –

Have you ever had evil imaginings,

awake or dreaming,
and confused the two?

A  palpable scene,

with the texture of  black  silk covering

from head to toe,

wrapping around your neck as your breathing slowed?

The dark outside solidified against the glass

as something settled it’s gaze.

A pinprick of pressure to the skin at

the nape of the neck.

It’s waiting to be let in.

Your hand rises to the latch, as you wonder

at  the horror that seeks you and the  curiosity in

which you seek your own demise.

Perhaps this will be the night

you finally die.

by Philip Wardlow

The Thing Inside – A poem


hyde

The Thing Inside

It dug deep inside of me and slouched in

the corners of my mind where it directed

me where to go.

It pulled the strings and propped me up

like a caricature in a show.

My emotions were muted like hearing the

sound of a loud glorious church bell

down deep in a dank musty well.

I floated but there was no water to be seen,

no apparent wave had struck me yet I felt

slapped just the same.

I spied you amidst lights, and through the

wall of sound that I had to walk around and over

and under to get close to your side.

You looked sad and wanting to my brown eyes,

because your blue eyes found mine and

I knew it in my soul to be true.

We were connected me and you.

But this thing that slouched, and slithered and sat

this thing made my eyes see you as a trap

I had to traverse or never make it back intact.

This thing inside had a magic wand, which it tapped on my temples

ever so softly as it laughed at me in glee and showed me the shadows

which raced behind everyone’s

heart along with my own.

My memories were dim as I woke in bed, the creature who once

had crouched inside was seemingly gone.

“Foul creature!” I screamed inside, but no answer came

Thankfully.

But mayhem had been met by me that previous night and the

damages I had accrued could not be undone.

I think of that thing that was once inside

and wonder if it will always abide.

by Philip Wardlow 2012

The Night Entreats – A poem for Halloween and the coming FALL next week!


The crows rested in the trees;

for the killing was all done and they

were full.

Their caws as they conversed,

sounded like laughter to my ear;

as if the murders they had committed

 had been all in good fun.

The wind whistled in the trees

and nudged the dead leaves

to life across the road.

Brown and gold skittered like roaches

and hopped like bulbous toads

traveling in a disorganized parade

for the dead.

The bright moon held no warmth

for it worked with the cold wind

and played through the trees to

cast pale blue shadows upon me.

Figures of dark demons, witches, and imps

danced in front and behind as I  softly crept

 lest they hear me trespass in their day they

called night as they played.

My step quickened as the wind seemed to thicken

and pushed at me like a hand on my back.

I grabbed myself against the chill which

ran deeper than it should this fall night.

This hallowed eve, it seemed, held more magic than ages

past, more power, more darkness than the last.

An ancient magic flew on a mystic wind

That brought to my soul a feeling of dread and

memories of evils best left long gone and dead.

The night entreated and beckoned

me to come and walk off the path I was on,

to follow the dead parade as it marched on.

Perhaps I could join in the fun

and dance with the minions

of the night who ate and drank of sweet

things they called treats.

They grinned at me from out of the dark,

but I saw the trick in their eyes

as they wiped the blood from their lips

I would not be fooled

So I ran,

faster than the wind could find me,

Faster, faster, faster I ran.

until I reached my hallowed home.

and clicked the lock shut tight.

The night retreats.

by Philip Wardlow

Devils in the Details – Short Story – Hope you Enjoy!


Below you will see a short little story perhaps meant to be go on in serial form or as a full length novel perhaps . This might be what you call an origin story somewhat. Let me know what you think. It has been rejected a few times by publishers. I will be submitting it to other  publishers soon, until then I just wanted some opinions of what others think of it. I will give you my thoughts on it after a few people  have read it so as not to interject my opinion of the story  into your thinking of it. I think I know what a good story is so  I try to be objective with my work but it’s hard to be after editing, and revisions and reading it over twenty times.  Honest constructive criticism is ALWAYS wanted and valued. Thanks!

 

Devils in the Details

He saw the old woman enter the library, a silver haired little lady, the real grandmotherly type, the kind that spoils the grandchildren when they come to visit.  She didn’t look to weigh much over a hundred pounds, string bean and lean at five foot-four inches tall or so. He could picture her sitting in her creaky rocking chair, doing her knitting or cross-stitching and humming a forgotten tune from years gone by while her cat laid next her.  He had been following her for quite some time now, waiting for his chance.  Time to pay the piper milady; you are going to break like a cheap piece of lumber, he thought with no pleasure behind it.

His name was Willie, a slim but well-built wiry young man with dusty blonde hair, a young man with a future; or so he had been told by much older, wiser men who said they knew the score in life.

***********************

The score to him was beaten into him at a much younger age by his father and a few of his father’s perpetually drunk friends he had hung around with on occasion.  His father and his friends found it entertaining to see how far they could push a kid around before he snapped.  It hadn’t taken Willie too long to snap but not in the way they had intended.  Willie was a survivor to the core and he knew he couldn’t just go crazy on them one night as they started to wail on him because they would have just kicked his ass more than they already had. So he did the clever thing. He broke into a liquor store one night and made off with as much alcohol as he could stuff into his school backpack. The next day, on a Saturday night, with his dad and all his buddies sitting around playing poker out in their garage at the card table he presented them with his little gift bag of ‘time to get wasted’.  They thanked him and sent him on his way and drank well into the night. Willie found it easy pickings when he finally ventured out into the garage, asleep like babies they had been, even after he had kicked a few in the ribs as hard as he could for payback for all the beatings he took from them. That night they all had contributed to the Willie get the hell out of town fund. His dad’s little bank under his mattress had made the biggest contribution to that fund. So at the not so tender age of fourteen, Willie had taken a cab to downtown Grand Rapids and jumped on a Greyhound straight out of Dodge and never looked back.

He wandered a couple of years through life not knowing what job or town he would wind up in next after the money had run out.  A man by the name of Jacob Ward took all his worries away when he had caught Willie hitchhiking in the dead of night along a lonely stretch of road.  Ward had asked him almost nonchalantly if he’d liked to make a few bucks by doing a little a job for him. Willie remembered Ward hanging out the side of his car with one hand holding  a lit cigarette like he could care less if Willie helped him or not.

“Just thought you might need some extra money by the looks of you.” he had said to Willie.

He had looked harmless enough to Jake at the time. Willie’s radar for trouble had served him well the last couple of years on the road, probably saving his ass from a handful of pedophiles and thieves looking to take advantage. It wasn’t pinging inside his head as he looked at Ward. He had always been good at sizing up people just by looking at them.  It was the eyes, it didn’t matter whatever else they said or did, it was always the eyes that told the story. Ignore all the rest of the bullshit.

So Willie had said rather enthusiastically, “Sure, what the hell,” and jumped into his car.

Had Willie known that the job would have entailed help in burying a dead body that just happened to have ended up in the trunk of Jake’s car, he probably would have ran quicker than a Jake rabbit and never looked back. They had driven for awhile when Jake had come to a dirt road overgrown with weeds to his right; he turned the wheel sharply and drove on until the road had ended abruptly at a field of sparsely populated grass and sand. He beckoned Willie out of the car towards the back where the trunk was.

“It’s in here,” was all Ward had said at first. What’s in there, was Willie’s first thought.

“Take a good look at death boy, and see how pretty it can be,” Jake said as he turned the key to open the latch on the trunk, revealing his gruesome cargo.

Willie reluctantly approached the vehicle and fearfully peered into the trunk to check out the contents.  The body had been wrapped in a big clear plastic bag tied with a neat bow of rope much like a present would be under the Christmas tree. Willie couldn’t see the face or much of the body due to the fact that the blood from the person was smeared everywhere, only an opaque likeness of the person could be imaged through it all. He knew it was a young woman due to the long dark hair and shoeless feet covered with tan silk stockings.  The body seemed to be cut up into many pieces. A detached leg lay over the woman’s head blocking her face from view. When the full horror of what he had seen finally reached his brain, he felt like he was going to vomit.

Willie had fallen to his knees.  “Oh God,” he had exclaimed in a cracked voice that had not yet fully changed. “I think I’m gonna be sick!” waves of nausea ran through him as he fought to control the twisting his stomach was taking.

Suddenly Jake had slapped him hard across the face and sent him reeling across the ground. Jake had then picked up Willie like a sack of nothing in his hands, and dug deep into him with his fingernails as he gripped Willie’s upper arms like a vise with his own. Willie let out a loud yelp filled with pain and fear, not knowing if he’d also be another body wrapped in a plastic bag buried somewhere in a field of weeds.  Never had he felt so afraid in his whole life; not even when his own father had beaten him had he felt such terror as Jacob Ward instilled in him.

“Don’t cry for the likes of her, she ain’t even human. You might think she is by the look of her but you’d be wrong.  So boy, yur gonna dig this hole and bury this damn body and yur not gonna say one damn word while yur doing it, and when yur done, yur gonna git the hell out of here and forget this ever happened.

“Git it?” He said this all with an insane scowl spread across his face as he held Willie close to him with his foul dead breath washing over him making Willie’s nausea even worse.

Willie helped dig the hole, and Willie helped bury the body, but Willie never did forget what happened and he never did leave Jacob Ward

************************

For some reason all this had been running through Willie’s head as he had followed the old lady into the library. He guessed it was one of his usual pangs of guilt that he got every time he did a job. What a nice way to put it, he thought, a job, like he put on a suit and tie and went off to the office every morning. He had often wondered what life would have been like if he had walked down a different road those many years ago.  What’s done is done, can’t change the past, he was the stupid shit that got messed up in it all anyway.  Willie shrugged it all off like he usually did and concentrated on what he was here for; to kill a person. No not a person, something else.  He was told this several times by Jake and a few others in the business not much higher up than himself. It always left him confused and wondering what the hell they meant. He was always told he wasn’t ready to know just yet.

The old woman, whose name he knew was Madelyn from the contract he was given last week, had just pushed the button on the elevator. He approached her from behind and came to stand two feet to her right. She turned and gave him a quick soft smile and a glance through her spectacles which were perched on her face. She looked back towards the elevator and adjusted the blue shawl draped over her thin bony shoulders and continued to wait for the elevator’s arrival.

She looked harmless enough, but he had not caught her eyes when she looked at him. Every contract he had done always had that same look. She would be no different he was sure.  Still, it was small consolation. Who would want to put a hit on a grandmother, he thought almost bitterly to himself. He didn’t know, he never knew, he was just directed to do a job and do it right. That was it. Put it out of your mind, Willie kept telling himself, she’s probably as wicked as the rest of the world is, probably more as Jake always said.

He heard the audible ding of the elevator, the doors of the elevator open and the old lady enter.  This was his chance, just me and her.  I’ll take her down hard and easy like I was taught.

***************************

“Wrong, wrong you idiot, you jab with the right but you deliver a cross with the left. They hardly ever see it coming. How many times am I gonna haf’ta tell ya til ya git it right? Jesus, sometimes I wonder why I ever took you on with me in the first place,” Jake said as he circled Willie to keep him off balance. Jake smiled at him and Willie eyed him warily. He always did when he smiled like that.

“I’m trying Jake, I’m trying,” Willie breathed in deeply from the exertion Jake was putting him. Willie’s eyes warily followed Jake as he circled him in the backyard.

                “Well try harder, boy. You wanna be rich and famous someday don’t cha? Jake snorted and threw another punch at him.

Jake had been in Special Forces with the marines back in the eighties, real hush hush as Jake always told him. Things you couldn’t tell your momma else you’d have to kill her. Willie was never sure if that was just a figure of speech or if Jake really meant it. Willie never asked.

Willie had stayed on with Jake after the incident because in the end he discovered Jake wasn’t crazy, at least not certifiable and was hooked up with a big organization in some far off place that paid him well, very well to take on certain contracts. Why had they picked Jake, who seemed a buck shy of a dollar? Well to hear Jake tell it you would think he walked on water with the people who did the hiring.

“They love me man. They know what I see. They need me man. There’re so many of them out there man they can’t keep up.  It was either kill me or hire me and so here I am doing the lord’s work.”

Willie always asked him what he meant when he would say those things but he never explained it much beyond that.

That’s the way it had been with him and Jake, and Willie guessed it would have probably remained that way forever if he hadn’t killed him just two weeks ago, just another job.  Funny thing is Willie had liked Jake, even for all his gruffness and being rough around the edges, he had liked him more than he had his own father by a far margin. Willie might be a killer but he had an integrity that his father never did.

They had given him Jake’s name though and he had done his job. Besides, Jake had started to change as of late and not for the better, like something dark had dug into him deep and wouldn’t let go. Jake had never been a picnic to work with but in the past few months he had been a different person, colder, more distant, dark was the last word that came to mind, and his eyes had changed.

*******************************

He noticed he had been lost in thought, because he had to practically leap into the elevator before the doors closed on him. Not very professional, he thought. He saw the old woman give him a flat stare.

“Same floor?” the old woman asked him looking over at him, as the doors to the elevator went to close again.

“Yeah sure,” he half mumbled to her, not wanting to talk anymore than he had to. Not wanting to hear her voice. Not wanting to hear the voices in his head when he went to bed tonight. The voices which always asked him why….why? He didn’t have an answer to give them. The voices knew why, but he was the one afraid to ask the question. Sometimes he saw shadows dance on his bedroom walls as he tried to sleep and it scared him. In his dreams they taunted him with the question. The answer to the question hid from him, wanting to be seen, but not wanting to be caught.

His mind returned from the dark place that it was in, back to the situation he had to take care of now.  So why was he hesitating, why did he feel immobilized?  He had to do it; she was nothing to him. He tensed his muscles in anticipation and breathed in deeply through his nose as he relaxed and prepared to do what he had come here to do.

The old lady did a strange thing just then, she flipped the stop button on the panel and the elevator came to an abrupt halt somewhere between the second and third floor.

“I wasn’t sure if you were the one until you had entered, your smell is ever so slight” The old woman said not looking over at him but still staring straight ahead. A small quiver of a smile crept into her mouth. The old woman adjusted her shawl again.

“Now in this enclosed space you reek of death. Do you enjoy killing?” This time the old lady did look over at him when she asked the question.

Willie turned to look at her and was taken aback as he looked her in the eyes. She was alien to him, just like Jacob had been, cold and distant.

“Aah, I see you recognize me. You must be getting the sight; not many do, especially as young as you. What color do you see? By your perplexed look no color as of yet. Well I assure you, mine are green but that means nothing to you, does it? It will become stronger in time and then we will be everywhere to your eyes. You will be very valuable to them in time. Maybe more than they even know.  I asked you a question, answer quickly before my patience wears. I have no love for your kind and what you do.” She almost spat the last part as she said it.

Willie was numb, lost. He knew he should kill her, but he couldn’t.  Not yet anyway, he had to know the truth.  “No, it sickens me” was all he said to her.

“Hmmm….one with a conscience, that is a first.”  The old woman’s eyes relaxed then and became less distant, less cold it seemed, but still alien.

“This body killed three hundred twenty four before we took hold of it. Some were honorable kills but most were off contract and some were children too young to know themselves in the light. She took pleasure in what she did.  No matter if it was right or wrong there should never be pleasure in it. It disgusts me to inhabit it but I must. It is a duty which holds high honor for one so foul. It is lucky the red eyed ones did not find her first.”

“I don’t understand.”  Willie muttered. He reached slowly into the pocket of his coat and gripped the knife within.

“Understanding only goes so far, but know my death serves no purpose today. Tell your betters

Tristol has taken command and they will understand.”

Willie moved like lighting in a bottle pinning the old woman into a corner of the elevator with the blade pressed deeply into her neck almost drawing blood.

“You don’t give me orders you simply die. I have a contract simple as that. No more bullshit. You’re like all the rest I’ve killed, cold, distant, ev….” Willie couldn’t finish the last.

“Evil you were about to say.”  The old woman, who named herself Tristol, moved faster than a humming birds wings as she grabbed Willie’s hand holding the knife against her neck and turned it on him, shoving him back across the elevator floor towards the opposite wall until his back slammed hard against it sending stabs of pain into his shoulder blades.  How can she be so strong, none of the others were like this, he thought.

“I see the turmoil in your heart. Do not worry you do a good thing young one. One day you will understand this, but some things must be even hidden from ourselves for a time.  I will say this much, there are such things as demons in this world but the trick is knowing the right ones to let live and the wrong ones to kill. Choose wisely.”  The old woman looked at him deeply as his pulse raced not six inches from his face with the blade held against his own neck. Willie thought his heart would explode in his chest. Was this how he was finally going to die? He looked into the old woman’s eyes deeply as she held him there tight against the wall. Suddenly the dark shade of brown of her eyes swirled around her black pupils and faded to be slowly replaced with bright flecks of green that swirled in the opposite direction around her pupils. When the swirling finally stopped her eyes were a bright neon green color.

“Now you see young one as many do not.  Continue to see.” She disengaged from him and stepped back.  She started up the elevator by flipping the switch to its previous position.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. The old woman exited but Willie didn’t follow.  He just stood there in the elevator. She turned around and looked at him over her glasses.

“Wrong floor Maam, I need the fourth, not the third. Have a good day.” Willie said.

“Thank you dear, you have a good day as well” she said almost motherly as he found himself nodding to her just as the elevator doors came to a close.

Willie walked through the double glass doors of the library to a sunlit street speckled with gold and orange fallen leaves.  He gave himself a little smile and decided to go for a long walk to see what he could see.

The End…..or to be continued?

Into the Woods – A Poem


 

Into the Woods

The young man walked into the darkening woods

few dared tread even in daylight,

for there were many a tale of a sly fey or evil

sprite who walked there at night.

 

Not caring for rogue or dark highwayman to

lay upon him on the open road as he slept,

he sought the sanctuary of the deep forest

instead for his bed.

 

He bunkered down next to a dead fallen tree

and built a small fire against the cold that crept

as the sun crawled deep and fled into a hole

in the ground as he prepared for sleep.

 

He stared into the fire and being young let his

fancies take flight, beginning to imagine eyes in

the woods contemplating him, waiting for him

in the burgeoning night.

 

He wasn’t a child to lose himself,

so he shook off his disquiet and the cold and closed

his weary eyes pretending to be bold and found sleep

even through his fear of the unknown.

 

Into the night he slept until the crescent moon

shone high overhead casting pale blue shadows

across his face and breast as he slept on his

forest bed.

 

Now some say if the moon finds you in the forest

other things may as well, like a beacon to a boat

far off shore.

 

The young man started awake to the feeling

of a finger lightly brushing his cheek,

cold but oddly yet full of heat.

 

The fire was mere embers casting a feeble light,

but he could see the outline of a figure nearby, one arm

outstretched toward him, sitting in a low crouch

swaying to and fro and cooing as if in love.

 

 The young man sprang up and backed over and

behind the tree and clutched at the hag bone which

hung around his neck for encounters such as these.

 

A good thing his talisman he wore for he may have

found himself dead in the morn.

 

“Come hither, Come closer.” It seemed to whisper in

his very ear, even though the creature was across from him

and not near.

 

It moved closer and the light from the dying fire

caught its face just so to reveal black pupils set against

black orbs which should have been bone white.

 

The face sneered at him with a clown like grin showing

a full set of razor sharp teeth within, while all the while green

flecked saliva dripped and slipped down its pointy chin.

 

It licked its lips with a tongue as red as blood and smelled the

air seeming to mark the man’s scent if  he should run.

“Sit and talk brother, I am alone I just wish a little company

in my forest home.”

 

“I am no brother of yours darkling, be gone from my sight!”

the young man yelled back shaking his talisman as he held

it tight.

 

“You are more kin than you know, do you think it mere

happenstance that I appear before you so?”

 

The creature looked at him from across the dim fire and

stared into him deep. Shadows danced on the creature’s face

as its dead eyes bore into him full of dead life and fathomless heat.

 

“You are my brother, for your heart is as dark as mine, for it beats

within you and called to me for it keeps the same time.

No moon called me to this place, nothing but your blackheart

pulled me to your presence and this forest space.”

 

 The young man said nothing but continued to clutch the talisman he wore.

The creature smiled and looked at what he held so desperately to his breast

for it knew the man’s secrets and oh so much more.

 

“Why should that help you in a time such as this? Should it not turn

on its owner and prove itself dead instead?”

 

“You will die as they did, oh yes. I see your eyes tell the lie on your lips

as you twist the truth you try to spit.”

 

“You saw the little farm house, deep in the wood and all alone?”

“A  husband, wife and daughter safe in their home

in the night, as you stared in their window and

crouched like I do now so low.”

 

“You crept inside when the night was still and killed the man while fast asleep.

Then you had your way with mother and daughter both and

all the while you smiled and laughed as if it all a joke.”

 

Like a lightning stroke the creature grabbed the young man’s hand and

ripped open his grasp and flung the worthless talisman from the young man’s

hands into the cold dewy grass.

 

The young man eyes opened wide and

 implored to the creature “Please I don’t want to die.”

“Hmm..that was the same said by the mother and child”

“Remember what you replied?”

Then you should not have taken up residence so deep in these woods.

 

With that the creature buried its teeth

into the young’s man’s neck and drank deep

of his brother all the while the young man

screamed for release.

 

Now the tales say if you go deep into the woods you

may run afoul of dark things at night, but the tales also

say be wary of the darkness in your own heart.

A Vampires Lament


Your skin breaks just like

the skin of an apple would

as my teeth sink in.

 

The taste of you floods

my dead mind with memories

of sweet Riesling fair,

 

Days gone, best left dead,

parties of friends buried deep,

a grave gone long cold.

 

Content I had been,

but did not yet know it then.

Death opened my eyes.

 

Sweet isolation,

now follows me everywhere,

a pale hallow friend.

 

My blood lust sated,

you fall to the rocks below,

a victim of me.

 

I could have turned you,

forced a light friendship to dark,

misery to share.

 

But love lingered still,

trapped in these immortal cells.

I did all I could.

 

You sleep the sleep I

seek in my dreams while I sleep

on a bed of nails.

 

Come to me lost ones,

I will take away the pain,

drink it into me.

I am your pardon

to a life God has sidelined,

your dark god on earth.

 

Your skin breaks just like

the skin of an apple would

as my teeth sink in.