The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

My feelings become petty drawn out dislodged emotions making me more imperfect than the 'god' they claim I am. As was the golden calf cast down by the wrath of Moses, so to am I now they have found 'salvation'. How eagerly they seek miracles among the living, unknowingly marching their souls down the tempered steps of shoal. Their faith is clay for reuse, their tongues; a bed of serpents. They know not honor, seeking only to feign its nobility. A den of thieves is, regardless of their garments.