The moon shines down, as white as bone
Over the slumbering town
The streets are empty; void of life
And there is no sound
But something stirs beneath the earth
Awakening from his sleep
A corpse enchanted by the blood curse
Is buried six foot deep
He claws his way out of the grave
The hunt begins tonight
And prowls for victims in the streets
Until the morning light
A maiden travels home alone
The perfect midnight snack
He lurks in shadows, stalks his prey
And mounts his grim attack
His fangs sink in, tearing her flesh
Puncturing a vein
He laps the crimson trickles up
Watching her essence drain
Her empty shell is growing cold
Leftovers from the feast
Just left to start its slow decay
Forgotten by the beast
And every night he-‘ll rise again
To sate his gruesome thirst
A solitary phantom doomed to live
And revel in his curse.
Justin Robert Cooper