VampiresVampires.The sun rises, From beyond the horizon,Birds start to sing their dawn chorus;The funeral march of vampires.That will forever protect us.They lay buried deep,Down within their graves,Trying to ignore that symphony that would accompany their death,And resist their bloody craves.They lick their fangs in satisfaction,Picking flesh from their teeth,Smiling oh so smugly,As the humans don't know what lies beneath.The sun reaches its high point in the sky,They are cramping up with blood lust,The wait is almost agonising,But they know that their fate would still be dust.Enter the night,They hear he cry of the baying wolf,Thousands of clammy hands hurtle through the earth,As they look for a human to engulf.
VampiresLovely things, vampires. Friends of the night. Enemys of the light. Feasting on the blood of humans or animals. They look like normal people at night. Just like one of us. Then tricking us so they can suck our blood in the dark alleys near bars. Aren't they lovely, vampires.
VampiresVampiresBlood dripsFrom hollowed fangsA chorus singsOf days long goneWhen the worldWas plagued by UsThe ImmortalsOf a time now forgottenYes, my childWhen We ruledWhen We laughed at the heavens aboveA time when We could hunt freely!A time when rivers themselves streamed blood!Yes, the ageOf when Vampires ruledAnd all quiveredUnder Our shadowsUnder the nightIn which We took flightFeasting, huntingOn whomever We choseAh, the ageThe lost age of Vampires...It will soon come again.