An exquisitely young and lovely girl.
Lain on her back before me, her life unfurled.
Her silken hair askew in a spiral swirl.
Her hand dangling from the altar, skin pale as a bone.
Fingers slowly open, the contents of her hand now shown.
A single flower drifting to the floor, it's final flight flown.
Shadows slowly crawling across the floor.
Moonlight gradually retreating from the door.
The time is now a quarter past four.
Cold winter air.
Wind whipping at my long flowing hair.
So it is that i gaze upon my lair.
Another night hunting spent.
Blood enough drank to pay another day's rent.
From this life there is no repent.
Yet another lovely maiden lain dead.
Once more the guilt echoing through my head.
Already i feel a new hunger that will soon need to be fed.
Vampire is the name by which i go.
Heartless creature, cold as January snow.
I live but i am not alive, hell is all i know.
Retreating to my tomb i must sleep, close my eyes.
Tormented until sunset by my victim's cries.
My makers promises...nothing but lies.