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Vampire's Lament
Folder:
Gothic What is all this tender young flesh,
roaming around street to street.
Dressed as though they are one of us,
all in black with plastic fangs.
I must control my urges and let them pass,
even though they are such easy prey.
They are like green apples to me,
unripe but still appealing none the less.
It is best I let them age like fruit on the vine,
allowing their red wine to properly mature.
Uncorking them when the time is most right,
then drinking my fill of their red liquid of life.
