Vampire

Vampire

"He's an immortal." 'How can you tell?' "Look at his pace." "He didn't break a sweat."

A young, handsome-looking man running laps under the misty evergreens. Listening to music on a walk-man truly an anachronistic scene.

"I hate those life drainers. A trap made in good manners, Being immune to death, They remind us, How pointless life can end."

'Maybe he feels alone, Being isolated and all Cursed to live the same night As a thousand falls'.

"He's unable to feel. Don't be so gullible. In his veins runs nothing but cold blood. There's nothing real in his smile. A shell, a mockery of man, don't be blind!"

Now the ethereal presence abandons the trees. Having dwelled in countless dark places, Being part of the scenery, never the spotlight Endless drinking, socializing, and expanding his mind…

"I must end this; that's why I call. This will be a deadly brawl. Unless I show him his true self, I need your help to break his charming spell."

Now the morning mist is on the rise. But before the helper could take a stride A soft voice calls his name. inside his head, thus sealing his fate.

'Come, rest with me,' the voice entreats. 'I feel your heart beating alone. Be mine, and you shall never be bored'.

The poor victim smiles with glee. soon to be his forever lover. Left alone, his friend chases a jogging illusion. Both were prey all along, for the mist was the real intruder.

Typical old book cover : blank

Well... what about the first page? Also blank

Ok, ok let's see the book spine: Name of the author who I don't know (sometimes it's Russian)

That doesn't tell me anything, I shall see the back cover: blank

I'm loosing it! Maybe the last page has an index: nope.

Ok, last try second page of the book: title

But... but what's the book about? I'm in a hurry!!

She used to love the sea

Chasing forgotten dreams,

Taking that silver train

To that faraway place.

I just pray for a nice drink.

The ticket man stops my concetration,

Asks me a simple question,

Hands me a moldy piece of paper,

And says 'See you later!'

The infinite blue sea is the view.

What secret such clear water hold?

While on it's surface, seagulls strew,

And by the coast, people stroll.

The unforgiving train carries on.

Everyone is anxious to arrive.

I have no worries; it's better to be surprised.

At least the brezee is cold.

A thunder breaks the scene.

No more wind, only fear.

Everyone runs, but the train keeps its march.

I do not fret, for I posses a larch.

Now the ocean is noxious ink,

Rough waves whip the sharp rocks,

They flew away, in a blink.

The birds are being eating by hacks.

He's back, the twisted deadman.

He tries to grab my back.

But I stab him with the larch,

Just before burning away, it laughs.

I cry on my seat,

The train keeps moving straight.

I thank her, her last message, in old paper.

I can still hear the bell.

The Jorney will not end.

Neither my restless rage.

I shall never forgive.

How they stole her face.

The train by the sea,

It's carrying me closer to Titania.

The Empress of the fay,

She who put my little sister in the grave.

Orange crescent moon

My dear friend is near.

But it is so far away.

I saw her last night.

By the side of the road.

How many years have passed?

How many tears had I wept?

No matter what choice I make,

I forgot to pray.

How much does the guilt weigh?

How much time passed? Or I ate.

Now she's a shadow of herself.

While a hole grows larger in my chest.

I want to sleep by her side.

Hiding from undefined mistakes,

For once, to feel rested and well.

Again, I say, so fair, lady.

Eyes as blue as the sky,

With a charming, big smile,

Her red lips against a skin so pale.

I should forgive everyone.

Even those who broke my entrails

Because God is looking up there.

While the moon is my only friend.

Seriosly, how on earth people write a lot lot like novels and encyclopedias?

Of what happens after

When all is done

You'll find yourself falling down.

The judgment criteria are unknown.

But you'll know real soon.

For those found guilty of pain,

Filled with hatred and disdain.

The unfathomable, hungry depth awaits.

To devour such a wretched mistake.

The lucky few will be held

By the hands of fair cupids,

To be carried away

to where souls disintegrate.

The writer would also be falling

For is a sin to imagine

The winged heralds will laugh.

And the darkness will be around.

However, those who scribe the world,

Shall be held by their own words.

Those characters whose lives have bestowed,

Will carry the writer far away from the woe.

Angels will cry in anger.

The depths will scream in hunger.

The writer will be full of tears of glee.

For not even the gods will take their iron will.