But it is death, and I hunger still,
In silent dreaming I find no satisfaction.
The blood flows; I taste, I see, I smell,
But only in my mind's eye; in the deepest reaches of my soul.
Yet, no vampire am I,
Nor human either, if truth be told.
My life lies some where in-between,
Where night and day entwine,
And the hearts of men unfold.
YOU ARE READING
Illusions Of A Soul
PoetryThe Poems Herein Contain My Heart. Sharing my poems is a somewhat uncomfortable experience. They mean so much to me. I hope you enjoy them too. Some of my poems can also be found on DeviantArt.
