The Child of Night
Cloaked in nights darkness, a blackness so pure.
I curse the light that comes with dawn.
For as a moth to the flame, I burn.
The birth of a day anew heralds my slumber.
My torment dimmed by the night's profit.
My spirit is now renewed.
I long for her embrace, her heart so tender.
Stolen from my grasp, upon grounds so hallowed.
Were that thought could carry her to me.
Her supple flesh, rousing eyes
A beauty I recall of many scores ago.
A delicacy bequeathed to gods,
Must certainly be fit for a prince.
Her blood, I need it now.
Mortality so ephemeral, she will be mine.
The rising sun, ever my enemy.
As shadows reach across the grounds,
my time for sleep is nigh.
As death sets upon the horizon
I rise to greet nights call once more.
The sense of my love within my veins, tells me she is alone.
And with her, my cold heart may beat yet again,
Like it did oh so long ago.
A love I must taste, to sup on a sweetness so complete.
My fangs at her throat, only to be met with my own mortality.
An eternity of unquenched hunger extinguished by loves betrayal.
Blinded by my passion, my maker now calls by the point of sharpened stake.
And for the last time into blackness, I slumber the long night.
A Poem by Furrion