Blood Bank

A.W. Nutter My breath suspended in the air The forest adorned with frost Fleeing from the Devils lair Carrying a soul already lost Wandering in a maze of emotions I hear their strained voices calling Pleas of concern an artful allusion Must remain hidden until morning Gazing upon my open wounds The scent of blood, I’m betrayed Captured, sent back to my tomb A favorite slave quickly reclaimed My ankles and wrists firmly secured Cleaned and prepared for the feast Thirteen souls the master’s acquired Placed in line, awaiting the beast A single finger points in my direction Two pints of blood quickly devoured Dracula feeding during his resurrection His thirst for life temporarily acquired Never again will I escape the master In Dracula’s manor is where I dwell Private stock, providing blood forever Condemned to exist in this living hell