the lair...
a labyrinth of medieval catacombs beneath the city
dark, gloomy, fetid...a place where sunlight can't penetrate
there are Gothic railings at staircases
moldings and carvings of gargoyles and Celtic knots
as well as stained glass that adorn walls and passageways
this is where we rest.
vampires they call us
ancient, perpetual youth...terribly beautiful in face and body
voracious in hunger...
eager for the nocturnal hunt we wake
there is a danger that the lair will be found
it is and they come with torches a
and burn and burn and burn
I hide...
in a secret shaft behind a craved circle of knots
I can smell the burning flesh and hair
the acrid fumes creep into my hideaway
burn into my nostrils and scorch my eyes
(I don't want to come out
I stay till hunger drives me
everything is blackened, I can make out some forms,
bodies of the others like me, they will never rise to hunt again
sounds come through the tunnels
no time to make it back to my hiding place
so I slide between a drapery and a wall and wait.
voices and hissing...those who rested elsewhere are returning
I can hear them sniffing the sour air of the lair
and a shuffling sound
the curtain is snatched back and they close in on me
inhaling my scent, hissing
I hiss back and claw my way through their ranks
tell them what happened...
about the creature that can smell out our kind
and about the townsfolk who cane with torches
we leave to find a new den
an old abandoned factory
with the windows painted over black
Those who are unfortunate enough to stumble upon us never leave
I walk the floors at times and watch my companions feeding
some are little more that animals themselves
when the hunger takes them
attacking horrendously, ravaging sexually
and then ripping flesh to feed
with other as with myself it is an art...
the intense stare, hypnotising
the subtle taste of salt on the lips...
the sound of blood pulsing through veins
the complete surrender of the victim
and then the taste of sweet warm blood
there is always the danger from this four-legged creature
that can sniff us out
care has to be taken when venturing away from out hideaway
I find myself walking through streets unfamiliar
and upon turning a corner
find myself face to face with this creature
eyes glazed...lips pulled back in a snarl...
growling menacingly
I shroud myself in shadow
and become what these humans call invisible
this shadow is another dimension
not merely making oneself unseeable
there fore my scent banishes into shadow with me
and the growling ceases
perceptions such as sight here are a living negative
and as I look around this place of shadow I see others...
so many others...
some move in the blink of an eye...
others in slow motion...
some are like me others are not
with those of my kind who choose to feed here...
it is not the dame...
feeding here is a drawing of energy from the victim
not living essence.
a labyrinth of medieval catacombs beneath the city
dark, gloomy, fetid...a place where sunlight can't penetrate
there are Gothic railings at staircases
moldings and carvings of gargoyles and Celtic knots
as well as stained glass that adorn walls and passageways
this is where we rest.
vampires they call us
ancient, perpetual youth...terribly beautiful in face and body
voracious in hunger...
eager for the nocturnal hunt we wake
there is a danger that the lair will be found
it is and they come with torches a
and burn and burn and burn
I hide...
in a secret shaft behind a craved circle of knots
I can smell the burning flesh and hair
the acrid fumes creep into my hideaway
burn into my nostrils and scorch my eyes
(I don't want to come out
I stay till hunger drives me
everything is blackened, I can make out some forms,
bodies of the others like me, they will never rise to hunt again
sounds come through the tunnels
no time to make it back to my hiding place
so I slide between a drapery and a wall and wait.
voices and hissing...those who rested elsewhere are returning
I can hear them sniffing the sour air of the lair
and a shuffling sound
the curtain is snatched back and they close in on me
inhaling my scent, hissing
I hiss back and claw my way through their ranks
tell them what happened...
about the creature that can smell out our kind
and about the townsfolk who cane with torches
we leave to find a new den
an old abandoned factory
with the windows painted over black
Those who are unfortunate enough to stumble upon us never leave
I walk the floors at times and watch my companions feeding
some are little more that animals themselves
when the hunger takes them
attacking horrendously, ravaging sexually
and then ripping flesh to feed
with other as with myself it is an art...
the intense stare, hypnotising
the subtle taste of salt on the lips...
the sound of blood pulsing through veins
the complete surrender of the victim
and then the taste of sweet warm blood
there is always the danger from this four-legged creature
that can sniff us out
care has to be taken when venturing away from out hideaway
I find myself walking through streets unfamiliar
and upon turning a corner
find myself face to face with this creature
eyes glazed...lips pulled back in a snarl...
growling menacingly
I shroud myself in shadow
and become what these humans call invisible
this shadow is another dimension
not merely making oneself unseeable
there fore my scent banishes into shadow with me
and the growling ceases
perceptions such as sight here are a living negative
and as I look around this place of shadow I see others...
so many others...
some move in the blink of an eye...
others in slow motion...
some are like me others are not
with those of my kind who choose to feed here...
it is not the dame...
feeding here is a drawing of energy from the victim
not living essence.
2 comments:
Oh ENO....this is wonderful and so amazing....it held me captivated to read it to the end even when it became so scary and real. You are a fabulous writer. I also enjoy when you send me something new. Thanks ever so much dear one.
This was one of your best!
Peace and LOVE, Dar
This is only the beginning of the story...will be adding more...and designing a new Poetry site.
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