Alone
I am dead and lifeless,
Cold and of the departed;
Two hundred years of wandering the world,
Forlorn and forsaken.
I lay in a crypt waiting for awakening,
And I feel her passing;
She walks close to my resting place this day,
And I feel my hands move and my heart beat.
I must have her sweet blood,
Oh, I can imagine it on my lips;
I stir within my coffin and open my eyes,
I breathe her dulcet scent.
My endless pain, existence a nightmare,
This eternal life lonely;
Full of agony, darkness and deep anguish,
Oh, I moan and push back the coffin lid.
Could this girl be the one,
My soul mate for eternity;
Standing there in the twilight I watch,
She carries red roses.
Stopping at a grave of many names,
And then I am there;
Startled she screams and turns to run,
But she is no match for a vampire man.
Her beauty is surreal to me,
I embrace her in my arms;
And as I pierce her neck I hear her sigh,
Oh sweet, the sweetness.
Her blood is like the richest of wines,
I carry her to my grave;
And place her gently in my own coffin,
This twisted nightmare I will not endure. . .
alone
_____________________________
May 17, 2015
Poetry/Verse/Alone
Copyright Protected, ID 05-674-914-17
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, 101 In A Row #2
sponsor, PD, Judged 2015
Sixth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment