The Blood-Moon Rises

The blood-moon rises. Dogs howl.

Drown out the cry of the night owl.

Out from his coffin, creature crawls:

This beast obeys the nightly calls.

And through his fangs, bellows a growl.

 

His cloaking cape, his monk-like cowl,

Caked in plasma, from his last foul

Feast, slurped from veins in bathroom stalls.

The blood-moon rises…

 

Out from the tomb, he’s on the prowl.

His fangs protrude over his jowl.

He stalks his pray through winding halls

The doomed female cries, shrieks, and falls.

Teeth sink inside her flesh. Eyes scowl.

The blood-moon rises…

 

 

© All Rights Reserved Caroline Adele O’Brien

 
Advertisements

3 thoughts on “The Blood-Moon Rises

  1. Yuck! This vampire is positively disgusting “Caked in plasma, from his last foul feast, slurped from veins in bathroom stalls”. What a powerful, visceral, dark poem. Love it.

Come on over to the Dark Side...Say hello

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s