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A Vampire's Kiss



Let me stroke your hair

Let me touch your skin

Give me just a taste

Tilt your chin



Lips upon your throat

Fangs within your veins

Sipping at your blood

Feel the pain



Cold may be my touch

Do not stop to think

You will be on fire

As I drink

--Esther Spurrill

She bloom'd, though the shroud was around her,

locks o'er her cold bosom wave,

As if the stern monarch had crown'd her

The fair speechless queen of the grave,

But what lends the grave such lusture?

O'er cheeks what such beauty shed?

His life blood, who bent there, had nurs'd her,

The living was food for the dead!



From the May 4, 1822

Old Colony Memorial and Plymouth County Massachusetts Advertiser

COMMENTS

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newblood1
02:19 Jul 16 2008

Interesting poem.

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