Black Lord: Vampire's Feast

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Tags:
  • Gothic

    Black Lord: Vampire's Feast

    Red Moon, Black Lord
    My life is abiotic. I feast for blood
    and thirst for night and pray my dark lord to ensure our flight.
    Alas, we find an abattoir.
    Oh my Black Lord, all the fresh
    crimson blood. Oh, Cow guts.
    Pig Hearts. Sheep Lungs. Chicken Parts.
    The delicacy is sweet
    like mosquitoes for blood.
    Wait, I hear a sound.
    What's this I hear?
    Laughter in the background.
    Oh, my Hellish Lord, could it be?
    Oh, thank you Lord for the
    children we feast.
    So young, so healthy.
    Oh, thank you my Lord.
    My soul is in your hands
    And your wish is my command.

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    LynnHunt commented on Black Lord: Vampire's Feast

    12-10-2008

    Children....Wow, that is kinda creepy...But you held my attention...

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

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