Skittering on the wind,
breathing the heady scent of sin.
Looking for a precious flower
to sink my teeth in.
The feted flame of hunger
was flaring in my breast.
When I got a whiff of pure demented bliss;
Oh such rarefied vintage.
A claret so dark and pure,
and the package looked so sweet, so demure.
I felt a trembling in places,
that my blood lust desire,
Now this strange stirring,
had no more than brought a smile to my lips.
When I alighted and had my first hard look
at the cause of all of it.
Well mortal man may have his lust,
but what creature is this?
To have fashioned herself a temptress so radiant,
as to ignite my undead vampire passion.
To turn my pointed fangs from thought of feeding.
To crave other than to see her bleeding,
corpse and glazing sighs?
My smoldering eyes grew hotter still.
But it was not blood, upon which I whished
to quench my need.
For once again in eternity I desired to sheath,
myself in torrid tormented cries of carnal ecstasy.
And this little minx disguised in cloak of innocence,
stuck her tongue out at me,
and ’twas I who trembled in her clasp;
And buried deep in wanton thrust it was I who gasped
with glazing sighs and bled my seed, to fulfill her lust-
ing womanly need.
Then as it was a night for first.
And I had hardly yet to slake this new thirst.
I penned my number on a pad
and told her I would be glad,
to have her over at my castle