The Misanthropic Vamp Poem by Frances Ayers

Among the hidden, destitute and darker elements

Patiently awaiting her next blood meal

A creature scorned for centuries by the light..

Dares not love those that she needs to survive

She needs no distractions from her nightly hunt

Her bitterness oozing like a festering open sore

For all mankind and their social maladies manifested

In their hatred, greed, disgust, prejudice and sickness

As she draws their life blood into her very being

She renders her justice upon the snivering hords

That fall into her grasp, slowly sipping their life force

And therefore ridding the world of one less evil