Lady Vampire

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Lady Vampire

She had lived for some five hundred years

Just one glance could bring on nightmare fears

Then again, one sultry look could take your soul

Making love to her would be your one and only goal

 

Hungry eyes bearing down on you

Putting lusty terror in your heart. There is nothing you can do!

You want her with all your being and more

Knowing full well you will be ripped and tore

 

Her full, ripe breasts she tries hard not to conceal

But her skin is so cold and clammy. Can she be real?

Her fingers trace a blood trail down your chest

Bringing forth your will power, you do your best

 

Now she pulls you to her for that long sexy kiss

As your blood drains from you, all you feel is sweet sensual bliss

And just before you breath your last and expire

You whisper " I am yours my Lady Vampire"

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Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

Cobraleo’s Poems (7)

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