Vampire  

The twilight comes
Beautiful people start to rustle
Hiding in their dark basement suites
Away from the light in their modern day coffins
Raised to romanticism from poverty
Beautiful children born from lust and shame
Born from the long night to the night
Among the automatons
Like candles in the dark
Endless seas of wax awaiting wicks
Once lit to burn for all time
The pain of loss and loss and more loss
Letting go of bitter lives
Embracing sweet death
The past forgotten
Till covens rise once more
The scent of blood drawing them to your back door.

© 2006  Joe Blow