The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Temptation
16:13 Apr 30 2011
Times Read: 458

To ride the wings of temptation, to look to the darkest corners for salvation, we know what it is from the intoxication. That feeling of control slipping from our grasp as we drift into a feeling of utter content bliss, as if an old friend has touched your shoulder. A feeling of remembrance and relevance, those emotions which we hold so sweet, for some dark taneted lips are where they're kept.

For others family ties and bonds forever set in the mind are their place.

But where ever they may be the feeling is the same for all who will be, be afflicted by the intoxication, be driven by the fascination, and seek it until the end of their rope is reached.

Fire
07:39 Apr 17 2011
Times Read: 489

Sparks of life, sparks in the mind, fire, bliss, it's all so divine. The fire in my soul and the fire of the mind, cognitive function and stimuli sublime, when you look into a flame what is it you see, when I look into one, I see me.

The Heavens
21:17 Apr 06 2011
Times Read: 681




"Art done by me"



The moon that lights my way, that brings me away from dismay, you guide me. With said light I see once again from darkness you take me, to a place seen before forgotten yet implored, thought of in every mind yet somewhere it's left behind, you give to me.



The heavens are no longer out of reach nor do dark ages bar me, from the heavens that light my way. Through the thorns I see broken angels pour unto me, holographic imagery reflecting back my sanity

With such bright light from the lips of perfection sent down from the heavens no flower nor sent is declined to me, to see such a garden is to abate my pain, to gaze upon the crimson flower of my own desires, my heart moves like the haunting breeze the howls around me.



Through the thorns I crawl, but the garden it surrounds me, with the light I now see it takes me away from these things that hold me.



I seek the gentle embrace of the soft petaled garden from blood stained touch of my hands that be.



In this garden that embraces me, I find rest, upon her chest their I am, holding the flower close to who I am, with my blood and crimson desires it sets my soul on fire.



Through physical action I feel the supple red flowers, and from my blood drops I lose track of the hours, as it runs down the flowers that surround me.



From the heavens it was given to me, from my touch I feel thee, through the thorns I crawl, to taste you.



Life I taste.

My darkness is laid to waste.

From the heavens.

Machine gun
04:12 Apr 06 2011
Times Read: 689

The thumping of lighting, the popping of rounds, what is it that makes these sounds, an instrument of death, or a tool to be used, you can pull the trigger but you're still confused, you see what it is, but don't know how it works, all things are not simple till you know how it hurts, hold this in your hand, and run across the land, dodging death and things made by man, feel the lightning, the thumping and the popping of rounds, and understand what makes that sound, an instrument is not the killer, nor a sword in hand, but the mind that runs through the land, it's ok to fight for your life, but to start a problem means you live in strife, you can't know, you can't judge because you are not me, you don't feel the thumping of lighting, the popping of rounds in my inner mind, you can't feel these sounds, they are my own, devices you can't see, so don't make assumptions unless you are me.



Thumping of lightning, the power of sound, the human voice, it makes so many sounds.



I am a Machine Gun, I know myself well, unless you are me, don't interpret my shells, they're of hot lead and are powerful to the death, born from hot fire, and the instigators dread, you do not know me so take one in the head.