Notes About The Poem
"L ' V a m p y r e" it is NOT the vampire in french, it is his NAME.
Monsieur L'Vampyre Invitation
Monsieur L'Vampyre INVITATION
I pray thee cast thy lot into mine own,
becoming dead, as I've become for thee,
to walk the night, to know you walk alone,
forever, lest you come and walk with me.
Or someone else, who's melted to your charm,
who sorely needs what only we can give,
the curse of life, forever free from harm,
not knowing death, but only how to live.
To sleep the day, and rise up in the night,
to suck the blood of those we've barely met,
all in the name of love, we make the bite,
and in a pain too soon we all forget.
I pray thee lay thyself down to my fold,
relinquishing your right to growing old.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
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