In the darkness of the night,
she saw before her a wonderful sight.
He had a coat of the blackest color,
a cape so demonic it made her shudder.
The coldest eyes she had ever seen,
shining bright they must have been.
Shining not with color or light,
of something sinister, and not just slight.
Red pools of blood she seemed to see,
looking right at them was her key.
He whispered her name with a voice so deep,
that it gave her chills that she wants to keep.
“Take my hand,” is what he said.
That’s what she did and away he led.
So bizarre the place they went,
the words to describe it, can’t be spent.
In the end she wasn’t so sure,
that what had happened was entirely pure.
When she woke up she was completely dead,
with two punctured fang marks that bled and bled.
What was she then? She doesn’t know.
A Vampire? No, but she wishes so.
She’s not a dead body with a soul for a host.
In the end she was, just, indeed, a ghost.
Item is currently Untagged
Added 2007-09-06 23:05:46



Only registered members can post comments