Thisrt for blood, flows through my vanes, and makes me vibrate in dispear. My heart fills with that desire of your blood, and drowns me in impacience. I want blood. I want your blood. I feel the desire of my lips touching your neck, and my throat tasting that elixir of life, of warm temperature and as bitter as defeat.
I need you to feel the pain, that one that blinds you, makes you cry of pasion, of pain, of suffering.
I give you too my blood, my own elixir, to combine it with yours, in the eternal incantation of the vampiric romance. I deliver myself to your will, and to your lips, tanted with the bloody kiss, with your own blood, that now sheds down your chest, like skilfull snakes, and that also sheds down my own lips, that now taste the sweetness of the dark orgasm, just as you taste that wish, from the darkes of your soul, born from the fire of hell.
And when our bodies become one, our blood will be one, and from it, will rise a new darkness which will live in both of us until the moment of our eternal liberation to darkness, and to the permanent peace that is life in the land behind the four portals. Aradia.
This is for you, dark soul. For when the time is right, the creatures of darkness may be with us, until our bodies fall in the silent sleep of the now ceased thirst for blood.
A gothic romantic poem I made to my vampire.