The Vampire Myth Poem by james watkin
The Vampire Myth
Disdain looks down on humility
Blood shot, from castle drear.
Here are brushed intensities
In lightning and in fear.
An opening appears at twilight
Exposing fangs that lead
Strays of holy lighted hours
Into its darkened creed.
Fern owl bodes, and the owl proper
In a pale moon's ascent
The sucking dry the virgin, in
State of enravishment.
Monday, October 29, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: myth
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3/3/2026 5:44:19 AM # 1.0.0
