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As a child, I knew I was different even
though I had no name for what I felt.
I watched the moon as if it knew me
and listened to secrets no one else could hear.
The darkness never frightened me.
It felt like an old familiar room,
where shadows curled softly around me
and whispered, Welcome home.
I loved the night before I understood why,
the silver moon, the black winged crows,
the candles burning in quiet rooms,
the dead roses and the scent of rain.
There was something sleeping inside me,
ancient, silent, waiting
a hunger for mystery,
a magick hidden beneath my skin.
I did not know I was a vampire witch.
I only knew that I never quite belonged
to the bright and ordinary world
everyone else seemed to understand.
And strangely, a few people saw it first.
They looked into my eyes a little longer,
felt something they could not explain,
and stepped carefully around my shadows.
“You're different,” they would say.
But some knew more than they ever spoke.
They recognized the darkness I carried
before I knew it had a name.
Perhaps they saw the witch in my soul,
the old magic beneath my smile.
Perhaps they sensed the vampire in me
the creature who had always loved forever,
the night, and all things forbidden.
While I searched for answers,
they had already found the question.
What are you? Years passed before I understood.
The pieces of my strange little life
began to gather like ravens at midnight,
each memory returning with new meaning.
The moon had always called me.
The darkness had always known me.
The shadows were never strangers.
They were family.
And then one night,
I finally looked into the deepest part of myself
and whispered the truth I had spent a lifetime seeking:
I was never becoming her.
I had been her all along.
A vampire witch,
born beneath an unseen moon,
different before I knew the reason,
recognized by a few before I recognized myself
and finally awake, finally home, and finally remembering the ancient magic
that had always lived within me.

I am the candle flame, that refuses to die in the storm.

On Samhain night, when shadows grow,
And autumn winds begin to blow,
I light a candle in the dark,
A tiny flame, a glowing spark.

The moon hangs silver, cold and bright,
While spirits wander through the night.
The veil grows thin, the old winds call,
And whispers drift beyond the wall.

The candle flickers, soft and low,
Remembering those we used to know.
For those who walked beyond our sight,
I send them love into the night.

The leaves fall softly, one by one,
Beneath the fading autumn sun.
I speak my blessings to the air,
For love remains, though none stand there.

So let this candle brightly burn,
For all we've lost and all we've learned.
On this sacred, mysterious night,
May darkness hold us in its light.

And when the final flame grows small,
I know that love still joins us all.
For Samhain whispers, dark and true
The ones we love are never through.

COMMENTS

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LadySilva
19:27 Aug 09 2026

I will be lighting a candle on Samhain night and chanting this over the flame!

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