Queen of the Damned

The woman who lives on through death

The air is hot and heavy on her breath
And quick, short, sharp pains run along her chest.
Her eyes stare blankly at the scene ahead.
A stick impaled her heart and now she’s dead.
The medical examiners go;
Not knowing, inside her, blood still flows.
Heart carries on pumping,
But her wrists and throat, no thumping.
Lips are full and tasty
Of vitality, but deadly.
Eternity is hers to keep.
She dreams of it in daytime sleep,
The night is hers; she takes it on,
Drinks from souls and then she’s gone.
She will live forever on,




The Lady of the Night.

Author's Note

What should I improve?

Reviews

[*~Kristy~*]

You shouldn't really improve anything, but if this were my poem to edit, I would add a lot onto it, like about her strength and appearance. I'd make her seem ferocious, and I'd have so much fun that I'd never stop writing on it lol. But I found this beautiful. Great job!!