The End Of The Pier Poem by Damian Cranney

The end of the Pier was shrouded in mist
the Shadows we cast were defining,
We plighted our troth, and then we kissed,
Neath a full orbed moon that was shining,

We walked hand in hand to the end of the pier,
The ghosts of our past reawakened our fear,
We had to be strong, for ourselves and each other,
Whether we could, we were about to discover.

The mist started lifting and in the moonlight
A blanket of bats had just taken flight,
then in a moment the bats were not there,
they had completely dissipated into thin air.

We both had worked on the Pier in the past,
It had long since closed, when we were there last,
Stoker wrote, Whitby, was were the vampires came,
But this abandoned pier received them just the same.

As we approached the door, that led into the pier,
From the frightened flight of bats, one still was here,
A sudden metamorphosis, took place within the frame,
And a vampire stood before us, I knew him, and his name.

Vladimir, I said to him, I once fought by your side,
I am your nemesis and fate, from me you cannot hide,
For I am here, to stop your cheer, and the evil that is you.
he gave me quite an evil look, deciding what to do.

I shined my torch upon his face,
Remembering how we loved this place,
The fair was now in disrepair,
But seeing Vladimir, we did not care,

The place had always been such fun,
especially when blessed by a warm summer sun,
Vladimir was an amusement, placed within the fair,
whose main role it was, to frighten and to scare,

The pier had no power, so we could not turn him on,
But the memory of what happened, has certainly not gone,
To animate the mannequin, required a coin to go,
Then Vladimir would start, his ghoulish vampire show.

He would give an evil cackling laugh, that shred your nerves apart,
He certainly was quite frightening, and not for the faint of heart.
I suppose it was a funny place for us to reminisce,
But when in love there are memories, you do not want to miss.

I think we now are over, the need to see the pier,
Generally, we remember it, over a glass of beer,
I suppose we might go back one day and have a laugh at Vlad,
Although the old Piers crumbling, it's really rather sad.