By Laura Fox | Featured Contributor
She sleeps
Beneath a stone
With pallid lips sealed tight.
But when come shades of night
Then forth, alone,
She creeps.
Her wan
And ghastly frame
Should, ages since, be dust –
Yet, after death, she must,
Despite the same,
Live on.
She bleeds
My throbbing veins,
Imbibing greedily
Their red vitality.
As my strength wanes,
She feeds.
Helpless,
I can’t resist
This blight consuming me:
Each sleepless night, to be
Fervidly kissed
By death.
Raw grief –
Tormenting pain –
Soulless automaton –
Oh, must she wander on
And never gain
Relief?
What stake,
What herb, what knife,
Can rive the binding spell,
Can damn Un-Death to hell,
That, from it, Life
May wake?
Vampire,
Haunt me no more.
Cast off thy dread disease!
Keep but sweet memories –
My one, my sure
Desire.
My arm
Will make thee free:
My hand, my act, my choice,
E’en while my loving voice
Breathes over thee
A charm.
“Release,
Thou unstill breast,
The spirit of my love.
Unchain the captive dove
That she may rest
In peace.”
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Categories: All Poetry, Featured Authors, Featured Poetry
Wonderful imagery but I can’t tell if the vampire is attacking you from the outside or inside Great stuff Laura
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Saturday laughter is the best
I agree. This was beautifully written.
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