Author Information
I, Immortal
Folder:
Horror and Supernatural Why! Why must it be so?
Why must the world have me?
My people contribute nothing
We are legends, warped by romanticism.
We are not builders, artists or educators.
We are not physicians, nor philosophers.
We are vampyre; people of blood
We are the takers who leave behind nothing
I cannot die, however much I wish it.
Genetics preserve me from myself.
I may take all the lives I want and need,
But my own life I cannot extinguish
I do not want to live, to continue my contribution
Of death, confusion and misery
I am not myself in heart and mind when I thirst;
I am not who stands before you now, wishing for extinction.
I feed upon you, the cattle, when the bloodlust begins,
Toying with all those about to die.
Laughing at their pleas for life;
Mocking faith as they try to shield themselves
Watching them suffer, feeling the struggle.
All this does is increase my thirst.
A life or two, maybe three or four,
Whatever it takes to sate my need
Tell me, you who judge and pontificate,
What if the beasts that you hunt as "sport"
Suddenly talked and reasoned with you?
Would you stop killing them and their offspring?
The difference between you and I,
Is quite simple in all reality.
While you brag and boast after the kill,
I weep with the memory of the blood I've spilled
When the bloodlust subsides, I remember;
Every word, every plea, every tear.
I feel their struggles under my hands.
I taste their fear on my lips again and again.
Do you know what suffering is?
What it's like to kill because you must?
Have you lived a lifetime of killing,
And endured the repetition of each death?
I do not know why I was chosen to be what I am.
I did not ask nor want it.
I cannot bear the thought of what I must do,
But I dread more knowing I cannot control it.
The bloodlust will come again and again,
And with it I will take more and more lives.
When the need has passed I will feel remorse,
But in the end I will still be here.
Chances are, you will not.
