I wait beyond to stir the dream that mortality hath taken.
Though a shell of rotting flesh holds in the remains of my regret-
Nothing, not even death will separate my ghost-
That binds the mortal host with a curse of my own demise forsaken.
Denied priestly solace I lay in wait within my grave-
To rise in the night to feast upon their blood.
My only lust that must be satisfied less I die a horrible fate-
And be damned to Hell, for a choice in life I did not make.
Could there be no forgiveness for this creature of the night-
Who defies Satan's discipline by not slaying human life.
Dispatch me God, I beg of you, release my troubled soul-
Because my endless lust for blood in time will surely grow.
Be damned the world when I wake my next, and rise above the grave.
Nevermore shall I search the darkness in pursuit of what I crave.
So in defiance I call out to heaven, as I fall upon this blade-
To pierce my chest and free my soul; In hope I shall be saved.
(02/27/2014)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem