Poetry: Cold Darkness (9-8-04)

Cold Darkness
9-8-04
Corresponding Illustrations: Vampiress, wallpaper

In the darkness, a frozen flame
Born of fire, bred in pain
Is lurking in the mist of dawn—
What kind of horrors will it spawn?
From vampiric lips, blood flows down
And upon the veiled crown
Are laid the cries of many foes,
And many victims, whom no one knows.
All forgotten, left for dead,
For there’s nameless terror in each’s stead.
Born of darkness, kissed by cold,
A story going yet untold.
A lesson now can save you then,
For temptation comes—not if, but when.
Though eternal life ‘fore them was laid,
Their very souls were the price they paid.

The character I wrote this for, Mirabel Van Damask (the "Vampiress" illustration up top), was not originally a vampire, but it turned out that it fit better. This poem is a bit confusing. Just bear in mind it is speaking of a shadowy terror of a vampire. Eternal life? Vampires don't die by any natural means. It's kind of a weird poem, and was my darkest yet--a trend that many other late-night poetic musings would soon follow. It is a sort of warning in a way. Obviously you are not going to be threatened by a vampire. But the moral of the story still stands. Learn now the lessons of how to defeat temptation; it will be too late once temptation comes.

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