I scrape the blade across your tight skin. You scream and than the fun begins.
Nudging the blade to your throat, slowly in slight I have no use expect to bight.
Draining your blood, to write your name, on the wall that is were I will leave the stain.
Underneath the floor you'll stay, lost away in the dark, forevermore both night and day.
Insane they call me, to this here day. But, I'll show them how much they must give away.
Good daughters most pay for their own sins, when this is the way of the drunken men.
Every towns' man and woman with gather, at the ring of the bell in the upside-down flower.
Night will fall and you will be forever under, in chopped up pieces with nails and lumber.
Tight you were, but you bled on me, you died not a virgin, but you died from a surgeon.
People will reclaim, for evermore they will remember this, my tragic dead-look name.
Schools will close inside, as not just on this day, when I lurk for my next vestry prays.
Yells will be heard from here and all around, none will be the wise to make sound.
Clutching the knife at your hand, I slice, you scream and with an alto from in lice.
Holds you tight, for I know you will run away and scream with all of your might.
Of the clock, it chimes of seven, though soon enough you'll be in Hell, or Heaven.
Punishment and force of greed, I tell you this that is what everyone needs.
Alone at the stroke of twelve in Hell, the vampire has claimed all of those who dowel.
Tasteless blood from his new coven, he now glances the streets for anyone he can.
Held to a mirror glass, his pale garter reflection would be barren to his mystique.
Veining the city from the killers of your kind, They will bleed to satisfy your mind.
Around the night, a new pray, but this gentleman is way to keen and he slays.
Moving deeper into the night, you hear a gun, and you crash-down from flight.
Pain, gathers in your dark wings. None to see, unless you really believe.
Intense you feel your life is over, for just an hour the sun will be uncovered.
Reddening you, face has grown, to take for the formerly hellish mighty thrown.
Eternity has come to an end, You back away slowly on your weaken bends.
Found alone, by the hunter, You know you have eaten your last supper.
Relaxing would be to slumber, you need not to be his top blunder.
In and out, the lights of town pass away. You look and see the light of day.
Ground, Earth-to-Earth, ashes to ashes, you will die in smoking patches.
Hounds and cries can be heard from you, eyes will draw on them too.
This time you for-surely die, but would this be the end of your time?
© 2011 S. D. Blankenship
