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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Somewhere in Transylvania a pale-faced man named count Dracula spread much terror in his land; from his massive castle towering the towns below, he sought fresh blood from throbbing veins and they were of the youngest, pritties virgins he abducted in the midnight moon's shimmering glow! The horrified villagers left their lamps on and flashed wooden crosses to keep him away from their doors as he lurked in every narrow street; innocent girls heard about him and didn't seem terrified of his teeth... and they couldn't wait for them to sink in their necks velvety as roses! O Dracula, those victims dangling from the ceiling of that dark dungeon moaned from starvation and seemed much colder that a silver rod; and while they were dying, you still sucked the last drop of their blood! O Dracula, men with pointy sticks hid in your castle and waited for dawn! How could you lay in your coffin and sleep knowing you were going to die on any morning at the hands of angry men to wanted to avenge every cruel deed? A stick made as sharp as a blade was the perfect tool to kill a vampire, and as you lay asleep, they stabbed you into the heart letting blood gush as a stream! Somewhere in Transylvania in a castle so shunned and cursed by any traveler, Dracula's restless spirit roams through hunted hall of shimmering light, and powerless as he is, he still searches for souls subdued by fright... but as a convict with a life sentence, he is condemned to wander and despair!
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