Undying

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


The verse of an immortal blood drinker.

Submitted: July 21, 2018

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Submitted: July 21, 2018

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With the day's dying light,

 

The predator comes out at night,

 

To stalk Moldavian streets,

 

No noise made by his feet,

 

Over to a window he glides,

 

To observe the prey inside,

 

Thirsty for virgin's blood,

 

He can't go back to grave's mud,

 

Not unitl he has his feast,

 

This primal urge of a beast,

 

So in he goes,

 

His reflection dosen't show,

 

But you can see his rotted skin,

 

And the fangs set deep within,

 

Covered in his burial lace,

 

He hovers over the sleeping beauty's face,

 

Looking at that exposed neck,

 

His bite leaves a little peck,

 

But then he starts to drain,

 

An unholy bite of firey pain,

 

The beauty awkes screaming,

 

Thinking she must be dreaming,

 

That this can't be real,

 

This pain she can feel,

 

Lights come on through out the house,

 

But it's too late for the beauty in her bloody blouse,

 

All they find is a gorey mess,

 

Blood spatters all over blouse and dress,

 

Her corpse is unusally pale,

 

Seeming thinner than a rail,

 

They know a strigoi was here,

 

It was just as they fear,

 

In the graves of old,

 

Is a corpse that won't remain with his fold,

 

Not of bone or rotting flesh,

 

But one that stays eternally fresh


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