Mounts of Madamoiselle L'Vampyre

THE MOUNTS OF MADAMOISELLE L'VAMPYRE She smiles among the dead she's come to know her holy grail, beneath Champs Elysees, acknowledging no one can come or go without her word, they never find their way. All catacombs still dark, she waits alone, lest one should count the dead--none having breath they're locked in grips of wall of solid stone, but loss is her's, not knowing, what is death. She loves the dark, and lives to make her bite into your artery, where life it stays, she cares not anything, not day or night, for jugular, 'tis but poetic phrase. Her steeds and mounts are always bred to go There in her Mews, where death they never know. © Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet