Vampires
Shadows in the moonlight,
Hiding from the rising sun,
Pale as a ghost,
Eyes a blood red,
Fangs as sharp as a knife.
They hunger for what flows in our veins,
So blue under the skin,
Such a lovely crimson in the air,
Sweet as iron can be,
A fine red wine to those who need it,
The hunger quenched by our vein,
Does it hurt when the fangs pierce your skin?
How soft and sweet it must be for them.
Do they put you under as they feed?
Such greedy pulls from the undead.
As the warm, sweet, red liquid runs down their throat,
Do you feel a thrill?
Our life is what sustains them,
Is it really worth the kill,
My dear Vampires?
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