GRAVEYARD COFFEEHOUSE - The Best Of My Worst Undead Poetry

Vampire's Paradox

The irony of being immortal

Is watching all you love and care about

Die in front of your eyes

Slowly fading and withering into dust

While the memories remain fresh and alive

Dancing with ghosts in a ballroom of the mind

Becoming a relic lost and confused in the present

As time drones on

Without passion, sensuality or purpose

Draining your desire as you lust to feed

Wondering where is that reincarnation of the woman

You loved so long ago

Can she be that attractive clerk in the store

Or the lady walking home late at night alone

Under the pale moon light

Maybe she will always be gone

Forever lost between a moan and a sigh

That first kiss and the ecstasy of making love with abandon

A picture post card from the past

Bundled with love letters and birthday cards

Coming to life again in dreams

Smeared with the blood 

Of innocent babes

Fighting for their miserable, insignificant lives

Screaming.