“And now she’s in me, always with me”…

~

He’s no longer sure…
If he liked you that much…

He no longer craves…
The warmth of your touch…

The spark has died…
And there is little else left…

What once existed…
Has been laid to rest…

Leaving you a stranger…
No longer part of his dreams…

Like a bit part actress…
That’s seldom on screen…

And stood on the outside…
You’re now looking in…

Wondering how this happened…
Much to your chagrin…

As there was a time…
When he worshiped you…

He believed your lies…
Prayed they were true…

And connected so deep…
You shook his very soul…

Sending his moral compass…
Spinning out of control…

He became your puppet…
The mistress’s servant…

He’d do anything for you…
Even if you didn’t deserve it…

But you turned on him…
Like a vampire craving blood…

You drained his emotions…
Whilst feasting on the flood…

Leaving him searching…
For the sanctuary of shadows…

A hole in the darkness…
Where only he knows…

A place he could think…
Allow his mind to clearly see…

And it granted him freedom…
From your constant misery…

~

“He’ll appear out of nowhere, but he ain’t what he seems”…

~

With unseen, undead faces…
These ghosts don’t make a sound…
Hidden in dark cold spaces…
Beneath our feet, deep underground…
 
They prefer to inhabit shadows…
Avoiding the day and bright sunlight…
No reflection appears in the windows…
As they prowl and control the night…
 
With a rampant taste for blood…
Stemming from a dark and ancient time…
They somehow survived the great flood…
Never paying for their heinous crimes…
 
Condemned with a never ending curse…
That began with such a sexually charged kiss…
Now it’s an unquenchable thirst…
Their old life they will never miss…
 
They appear seductive and emotional…
As they feed off our human life force…
To their leader they’re devotional…
And show their victims no remorse…
 
The blood has stained their Red right hands…
It’s been that way throughout the years…
These creatures walk across our land…
Killing our hopes, drinking our tears…

But nothing now can stop them…
Not holy water, wooden stake or hells fire…
We may judge and then condemn….
But our souls they will aquire…

With unseen, undead faces…
Silent screams echo all around…
As the fire still brightly blazes…
Hearts burn upon holy ground…

~

Photo by Yann G

“He’ll appear out of nowhere, but he ain’t what he seems”…

~

With unseen, undead faces…
These ghosts don’t make a sound…
Hidden in dark cold spaces…
Beneath our feet, deep underground…
 
They prefer to inhabit shadows…
Avoiding the day and bright sunlight…
No reflection appears in the windows…
As they prowl and control the night…
 
With a rampant taste for blood…
Stemming from a dark and ancient time…
They somehow survived the great flood…
Never paying for their heinous crimes…
 
Condemned with a never ending curse…
That began with such a sexually charged kiss…
Now it’s an unquenchable thirst…
Their old life they will never miss…
 
They appear seductive and emotional…
As they feed off our human life force…
To their leader they’re devotional…
And show their victims no remorse…
 
The blood has stained their Red right hands…
It’s been that way throughout the years…
These creatures walk across our land…
Killing our hopes, drinking our tears…

But nothing now can stop them…
Not holy water, wooden stake or hells fire…
We may judge and then condemn….
But our souls they will aquire…

With unseen, undead faces…
Silent screams echo all around…
As the fire still brightly blazes…
Hearts burn upon holy ground…

~