Vampyr
by Arik Fletcher
On cold, dark nights, he can be found,
Hid from the lights, upon the ground,
With blood-shot eyes he stalks his prey,
No worldly-ties, no words to say,
His soul is locked beneath the soil,
His body trapped in endless toil,
He hungers for another life,
A chance to end his bitter strife,
Alas he must, and always shall,
Remain a slave, an immor-tal,
His lust to kill, to drink the life,
With fangs that shame a hunter’s knife,
This want and need have all control,
And keep him from his mortal soul,
A slave to blood, to evil needs,
Deprived of love, and all good deeds.
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