Death’s Beat

A crimson moon illuminates the damp street.
An icy wind pierces through the stillness.
Shadows dance in every menacing corner.
No light shines behind the paned windows.
Not a soul stirs, not even rats on their forage,
As Lady Silence hums her mysterious tune.

A lonesome figure walks his usual beat.
Clothed as dark as the surrounding night.
Feet shuffling in practiced steady march,
A certain aimlessness evident with every step.
The shadows leap back when he approaches,
As if in defensive yet mocking retreat.

He maintains his march in deadly silence,
Feet lightly stepping over the cobblestone.
A glimmer of moonlight catches his marble face,
Broken only by the thin red line of his lips.
His tall muscular frame sheathed in black.
His cloak billowing behind sweeping debris.

A sudden gale brings him to a standstill.
His nostrils tingle to seize a distant scent.
For a brief moment his eyes fill with light.
Hunger evident in his bloodshot gaze.
He locks on to the fading scent,
And moves towards it as if in a trance.

A figure sits sobbing on a park bench,
Sorrow blinding her from the deadly night.
She whimpers and sobs in tune to the howling wind,
Unaware of the dark angel approaching her.
She looks up in time to see him beside her.
A friendly smile and a silk napkin he offers her.

Too sorrowful to deduce his intention,
She innocently allows him to soothe her.
He seats himself beside the shuddering girl,
A pale white hand stroking her mane.
She succumbs to his caress and leans on his chest,
Only the crimson moon, a witness to the ensuing crime.

Do you hate this world? He asks her.
Do you want revenge against all that hurt you?
How would you like to have such power?
How would you like eternal life? He inquires.
She looks up at him with doleful eyes.
Questioning the possibility of the offer.

He surmises that his prey is ready.
He didn’t have to try too hard with this one.
He gently holds her willing body,
Cradling her in his muscular arms.
His hungry eyes glowing again,
He buries his face in her neck.

She feels tiny pricks on her throat,
Her mind bursts into euphoric visions.
A dazzling display of lights cloud her eyes.
A warm feeling of intoxication rocks her body.
The lights in her minds eye slowly fade.
He leaves her limp and motionless on the bench.

The crimson moon stares down at her in gloom.
She lies there dreaming till dawn stirs her.
Her head throbs and her knees tremble,
Every ounce of strength seems drained.
She squints her eyes at the hurtful sunrise,
And wonders what it was she had drunk last night.