The Vampyre Poem by Adam Latham

Night, the eternal demon.
I waltz upon it's dappled arch
Then sprint the midnight moonbeams home.
And as my restless spirit soars
Above those cobbled gas-lit lanes,
The purging lust for blood conspires
Against my soul till it devours
my waking state with evil powers.
Then swift,
Swift kill.
A frenzied thrill.
My human prey and lifeless mould
No more to talk or to be told,
'A fair and gentle man you are'
My sanguinary caviar.
And this my limp filled carrion
Will tame me till the rising sun,
When I shall wander through no more
The wonders of the natural law.
This ooze,
Thick ooze
Of veins quick swell
Shall satisfy my raging fire;
Each beat a palpitating choir
A dying heart can never quell.
And if remorse should grip thy flight
At this man's death for my delight,
I can but unto you console,
It's better HIM than your bloodbowl!