The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

At dusk I walk where pine trees lean,
Their shadows stitch the night between
The ribs of earth, the breath of leaves
A forest that still half believes.

The moon hangs pale like bitten skin,
A silver wound the dark drinks in.
My footsteps hush the sleeping ground,
While ancient hearts begin to pound.

Vampires move where roots entwine,
Red eyes blooming in the vine.
They do not rush; they never need
Time itself concedes their speed.