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Words With A Light Vampire
A deeply wounded man is tempted into eternity by a shining light vampire.
Mortal Man:
What is it that you want from this hour
of our meeting? You see the shining
of my suffering. Do you want that?
Why must I kill here? What do you teach?
I can never become you, nor you my grief.
To enter your world, I am dying.
But for my heart, that did not die.
It just remains broken. You do
not want what I have. Have you
learnt nothing, from all I have said?
I am not beautiful. Yet I live.
What if all I have left is my pain,
my grief, my rage, my regret?
My traversal of this existence
like a broken fence, running the
length of the world, splintered
and frozen, until the wood turned
putrid, cavernous, infested. So when
it finally met itself, there it was, my
non-life, the mirror of all suffering.
Is that how my spirit is seen
by you? What is it that you hunger
for? You in your absoluteness,
your undeadness, your old cloak.
You who would feed upon my pain.
Light Vampire:
The fence may be broken, my friend,
but have you seen how the moon
alights upon its brokeness, how
every dew drop holds its ice, then
slithers down the pale cheek of
the moonlit night? How those soft
bats scream, in the mauve and silver
tones of dusking, how the bolts
along the wire, shine like the eyes
of the undead turned skywards.
I almost feel myself, coming back
to life. Give to me what you have,
for you are beautiful, my friend.
Mortal Man:
Is all I have left, now for you?
You who regrets nothing, who
feels no pain, who lost the love?
Will I give up my broken heart,
in order to enter your dead life?
Or is there another way through
this unending dark, my tragedy?
I have suffered it all, like a fool.
And here you would feed on me?
You would enter my broken heart,
knowing its potential for return?
What deadness stands before me,
wrapped in the old cloak of its
next victim? When you can only
feed on brokeness, how broken
you must be inside, or unbroken.
While I still have this spirit, this light
within, that dims and fails and yet
flickers again. If that is all I have left,
then so be it. It is still enough to live. |
