I know now
The extent of her power.
She is truly alive.
How can this be?
I drank of her,
Fully.
Never in a thousand years
Have I tasted
A nectar so sweet,
So fulfilling.
She is dry, empty.
-This I know.
Yet there is something in her
I have not felt in my heart
In a thousand years.
She loves, yet.
Nemesis.
She is beautiful,
Even in our grisly existence.
Her hair, long and dark as shadow.
Her eyes, keen,
Though they have lost their shine.
I live now in dead flesh,
No emotion-
But I want her.
I have tasted her,
I know her,
Having drank her life.
Now I want her.
I call her,
My voice casting fear into the hearts
Of the living.
She cannot refuse my call:
I am her father in death.
She comes.
I see her before me,
Her vivid features marked
By an emotional hurt.
Impossible-
I know now the love she has
For our Enemy is strong.
It is her remembrance,
An impossibility.
Even I have no memory.
She speaks, her voice dead
As she is dead.
'Who is Nemesis? '
I am cunning.
A thousand year existence
Will make one so.
'He is your ending,
As I am your beginning.'
She does not understand.
'Why is Nemesis? '
'Because there will always be resistance
To the freedom we offer.'
This she understood-
'What freedom,
Our hell?
No life,
Only endless death.'
I smile at her, mirthlessly.
It is the grin of a predator.
I am that predator, lurking in the shadows,
For too long without an equal.
But she is my equal,
Or, perhaps, my better,
Though she is young,
And does not know it.
I want her, still,
But now I want her to know
-Realize-
What we are,
And what we can be, together.
Now,
Master and slave
-Who is who? -
Together,
Truly dead and truly alive,
Rulers of the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh wow- this is good too!