Count Dracula's Spell
A walk upon dark, icy ground
sends shivers down to bony spine;
spared from the choke of death thus bound,
breath comes whence love and hate entwine.
The count, their lord, doth rise at dusk
to terrorize blanched countryside
His steely eyes slice trembling husk
for drop of life, his brides abide.
The stench of corpse wafts from dead night
like sweet perfume on lover’s nape.
Enchanted by his starless flight,
he beckons with dark-wings of cape.
Then, like the moth to burning flame,
her fervor climbs for fangs drawn near.
a scarlet kiss to seize with shame,
Greed’s appetite expels stored fear.
In harsh rays of the waking dawn,
She curses beast, her longing’s doom.
With conscience breaking charm and brawn,
She lifts wood stake above his tomb.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, 1/12/15
for Giorgio's Sketch a Fictitious Character II Contest
*iambic tetrameter
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