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
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