A fool there was and he made his prayer
(Even as you or I!)
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair,
(We called her the woman who did not care),
But the fool he called her his lady fair—
(Even as you or I!)


Rudyard Kipling, 1865 - 1936

Lustful whispers in midnight dreams,
Upon satin bed under moonlight gleam,
Restless figures begun to undress,
Fingertips and torsos meet to caress,

Mouths now merging, oh so bittersweet,
Gasps of pain as teeth and tongues meet,
Canines sinking into cherry soft flesh,
Saliva mingles with blood so fresh,

Fingernails scraping across tingling skin,
Pleasure grows from carnal sins,
Breathing heavy as heart rate grows,
Agonising bliss as juices flow.

Sharpened blades making bloody gashes,
Heart beating peaks, each body lashes,
Thrusting, shaking, all through the night,
Bathed in sweat and blood and cool moonlight,

better than emo girl

Ready for you.

"I was walking down the river bank it was just the other night
When a vampire with a fishing rod gave me a real bad fright
'I haven't had a bite all day' it said and bared its drooling fangs
'A pint or two of your cool blood will cure my hunger pangs'
It chased me down the cemetary as silent as the grave
Where spooks and ghouls& zombies were i said 'bridgid man! be brave'
The vampire leapt upon me, we tumbled and we fell
Headlong down a deep dark hole, which led right down to hell
In hell he chased the devil himself who yelled in the confusion,
'Help me bridgid baby, or ill need a blood transfusion! ! ' "



The Vampire , Bridgid Patrick

I was once like you,
A mere mortal.
Unaware of the immortals,
Walking among us.

Now I’m like them,
Haunting the night.
Never to see the light of day again.

If you knew my new un-dead life
You’d fear me for certain,
Because I’ll feed,
On your fear,
On your blood,
On your very soul.

Elizabeth Clement

The Vampire

You who, like the stab of a knife,
Entered my plaintive heart;
You who, strong as a herd
Of demons, came, ardent and adorned,

To make your bed and your domain
Of my humiliated mind
— Infamous bitch to whom I'm bound
Like the convict to his chain,

Like the stubborn gambler to the game,
Like the drunkard to his wine,
Like the maggots to the corpse,
— Accurst, accurst be you!

I begged the swift poniard
To gain for me my liberty,
I asked perfidious poison
To give aid to my cowardice.

Alas! both poison and the knife
Contemptuously said to me:
"You do not deserve to be freed
From your accursed slavery,

Fool! — if from her domination
Our efforts could deliver you,
Your kisses would resuscitate
The cadaver of your vampire!"

— Charles Baudelaire, The Flowers of Evil

Sunt sclav, dar nu-mi pasa.

I like to serve, although in reality I have no other possibility.

They kill my father... But I'm still here with the Master.

I'm here by choice. The master has promised to me the eternal life.

Te doare? Da, foarte mult

Nu vreau s? mor