The VampiresA Poem by PhoenixBook of poetry
Night falls,
darkness calls. A vampire walks the streets, blood is what she needs, peace is, what she's longing for. When she passes by your door, you won't realize who she is. You'll never learn she's this. A creature of the night, a victim of a fight, that lasts for years, that's cruel and caused tears. She's of our kind, she's one of us, if she dies, it's our loss. We're living like you are, we might be near or far. When we meet don't be afraid, what made us this, it was just fate. Believe us, we are serious, we're neither bad nor dangerous. © 2013 PhoenixAuthor's Note
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