Saturday, 5 April 2008
12:45:35 AM (GMT)
Reeking havoc in a castle forgot,
Lived a coven of vampires creating their plot.
They do not drink blood, they refuse to do so.
Offer them some and they'll solemnly say, "No.
Eyes the color of ocher,
If they change to crimson, that would be torture.
One of the coven, so troubled and hurt,
Will not face anyone: He would rather eat dirt.
He seeks an adventrue, exciting and daring.
But under all that, he is sweet and caring.
Yet mysterious and dark,
He shrieks out, "Hark!"
A dark silhouette appears in the cemetery so near.
What is he doing, the troubled one wondered in fear.
The shadowy figure moved closer to him,
And gives a smirk, oh so slim.
The next occuring event is quiet a shock.
God's forsaken, you'd be better eating a rock.
For the shadow teared the other to pieces,
Leaving the coven with forehead creases.
'Tis then the shadow quietly sneaks away,
Just waiting--and wondering--to repeat the day.
Last edited: 11 April 2008