nothing to see, to hear
this dream of darkness is not real
it is just the darkest part of my imagination
but why would I dream such things......
here I stand in the night
beneath the waning moon who wants to shine
the stench of fresh blood fills the air around my being
no, its an aroma..... I love this smell
death....that’s what I sense.
death and fresh blood
I see red flowing down my arms, no....crimson...
blood
blood flows down from me, but I feel no wound
what am I holding?
its cold....and heavy.... no, its getting lighter
mmmmm....the taste.....
it lingers on my tongue as I drink....I’m drinking?
what am I drinking........no, I’m sucking not drinking....its so dark
the moon, please shine your light
show me where I am, what am I doing here....
the clouds disperse and I can see...oh thank you moon!
I look down at my weighted arms and see what I am doing
no....it cant be.....this is not happening.......
I stare at the cold dead eyes of a person....a lost soul
a wound is at his throat, its a man. the wound is leaking sweet blood
it calls to me......
I scream and dropp his body, 'Who am I! ? '
I run, no I’m flying, this speed given to me is amazing...but its wrong
I stop in an abandoned park....its early, four A.M. maybe.
a being is still here though.....who...... oh no
its him, I remember
he did this to me, he made me a killer, he gave this thirst to me
he did this because he loved me.....and...I love him.
but I want to die, I cant live
a steak lies on the ground
sweet peace comes before he can save me
I cry a single tear
he holds me, and I die
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem