Vampire Sonnets X through XVIII

Vampire Sonnet X

I will thee rise ere fall of shaded dusk,
Shadowed with the curse of roaming shades.
They walk the jutting tombs with Death’s bloodlust,
Seeking for that life which swiftly fades.
Rise ye then, and, crowned, be Death's Queen,
And rule the shadows of that underworld,
A world which none, ere death, have truly seen,
A world where shades, for eons, spun and whirled.
Now, rise, my queen, and bare thy thirsty fangs.
The pulse of Night throbs hot like fevered drum,
And, there, where Sunset, broken, bleeding, hangs,
We’ll drink the blood that Sunrise, vainly, shuns.
Let us toast that Sun God’s vanity.
‘Tis you, in Sunset’s blood I, crowned, see.

Vampire Sonnet XI

Tombstones march the soiled, rain-swept ground,
Where, late, thy grave drank deep the heaven’s draught,
The earth heaped high, a sorry, wreath-cloaked mound,
That bore sweet Nature’s anguished, stormy wrath.
Fear not, my love, I, soon, shall come for thee,
To take away those rich and lush bouquets,
And from the grave, you’ll then be, finally, free,
Though far from Heaven’s blissful, worthy grace.
When Heaven darkens, love, I’ll come, anon,
With my servants I shall dig thy grave,
And dig thee up from Earth’s sweet, rain-drenched balm,
From Life’s swift death, you’ll rise, though Life you’ll crave.
Earth, my mother, drink sweet Heaven’s wine,
Thy blood has fixed upon us its design.

Vampire Sonnet XII

The darkened boughs that lift and gently sigh,
Of eldritch pines and firs that mark the dale,
Those limbs of shadowed evil I descry;
They writhe and gesture darkly in the gale.
A distant howl rises o’er the din;
Others join with baying in reply.
The fog and mist makes all the forest dim,
But brings the curse of vampire evil nigh.
I turn to thee, a silent spectre, near,
So frail, yet strong, and ravenous for blood,
I brush away an angry, selfish tear,
To see Life’s beauty, stained and streaked with mud.
Beyond, my love, my castle looms on high,
And, there, in finery, we’ll never die.

Vampire Sonnet XIII

My memory is marked by evil fate,
Of soldiers, swords, and battles fought afore.
I met my death upon an evil date,
As Vlad was murdered in the elder lore.
Once a prince, I ruled in distant lands,
My people were a cold and brutal horde.
They sent a witch with evil at her hands,
To curse my fate, the Devil as her lord.
Through my bedroom grate she darkly flew,
In bat-like form and stole upon my frame,
Then, Death’s life and curse I darkly knew;
Then, I knew blood’s pulsing, sweet refrain.
Aye, I rue the day I felt Death’s curse,
Yet Life’s sweet blood my pains shall reimburse.

Vampire Sonnet XIV

They wrought thy name on faded, cold, gray stone:
Thy birth; thy death and that which, so, appends.
They left thee in thy rain-soaked grave alone,
Departed from thy youthful, grieving friends.
So, thus played out, was Life’s swift brevity,
So douses She her tallow, flickering flame.
The Earth stops not her roll of motion’s gravity,
And pauses not to mark thy cherished name.
Yet, though in grief, my grief burns swift and short,
So like Life’s flame, so like mortality.
For, though you did this cursed life abort,
We are, yet, linked by Death’s eternity.
Thy blood’s sweet taste’s yet on my brooding mind,
As cherished as thy Life’s sweet, flowing wine

Vampire Sonnet XV

Thy image, mirrored in Life’s gloomy pane,
Peers out from portraits, grim, yet stark and old.
They mark thy life’s so dreary, dark refrain,
And hint of hardships, pains, thus, yet, untold.
The raindrops patter on the black-tar roof,
Heaven’s tears for life’s mortality.
Though thou art dead, thy death is, yet, the proof,
Of Life in Death’s unending eternity.
If life be cursed, why curse our coming death?
When Death’s sweet life waits just beyond the veil?
Why grieve we so with each encumbered breath,
The grave’s embrace when life is harsh and stale?
My love, arise and join my fanged embrace,
And Death’s sweet life; the grave’s eternal grace.

Vampire Sonnet XVI

Wreaths are clustered round thy fresh-dug grave,
A tribute to thy life’s bright legacy.
Beyond the poplars bow, they moan, they wave,
The gravestones loom like Death’s grim tapestry.
Storm clouds gather in the pitch-dark sky,
The stars are dimmed; the Heaven’s face is hid,
Shadows; shades go striding; writhing by,
As if, they, wrought from Death, were conjured; bid.
I wouldst thou not so flee in fear from me,
When cold thou lie in Death’s harsh, grim embrace,
Nor from my vampire fangs shrink back and flee,
When freed thou art from Life’s brief span of grace.
I, yet, must free thee from thy earthen tomb,
Then bury thee in Death’s eternal womb.

Vampire Sonnet XVII

As Sunset dies, I voice thy cherished name,
Which echoes softly through the granite crags.
A death to life makes not a mark of shame,
Nor mars thy Sunset nor the shroud it drags.
You lived a life of petty, wayward dreams.
You laughed, you cried, you sang the olden songs.
Our pact, from Death to Life, was that which means,
That Death’s sweet Life was where thy fate belongs.
We drank a chalice laced with blood of lambs;
We mocked the dead and cursed the graves of kings,
But then we shared the blood which truly damns,
The vampire soul and all its lofty dreams.
Though poor in life, my dear, our souls will last,
Now that our mortal death to life is past.

Vampire Sonnet XVIII

I heard a cry far off within the wood,
Which echoed strangely, softly in the dale.
The night-clad trees hid well what shadows should;
They writhed and gestured madly in the gale.
The stars blinked coldly, brightly, distant fires,
As ravens passed their flame within the sky.
Dead shadows walked beyond the witch-lit pyres,
That burned within the fields where dead things lie.
I strain my gaze to scan the distant trees.
Again, I hear the evil cry and smirk.
Witchcraft is an evil thing to seize,
The souls of lovers caught within their work.
For I have conjured thee, my vampire love,
Come forth, while evil stars yet burn above.