Friday, December 2, 2011

Her Lestat.

my eyes are crimson red 

as if the night was bloodshot dead
the hair upon my head less bright

 the vision seen upon the night 

the skin of mine is brownish stone 

to represent the strength i own 

the air i breathe is filled with souls 

the spirits that besets me so

 and even through this night i feel 

the graves around me standing still 

the mouth i have is filled with blood 

as red the moon shines above 

the pale skin that is in my arms 

will only be safe from more harm

and as her cold lips touches mine

the taste of her is like a wine

the fire that burns between us

 i fear for her is beyond lust.

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