Blood Rush

With winter on the days heels and my mind in a tizzy with so much reality, I thought it'd be fun to write a more whimsy, dark poem about a vampire. In this case, a female vampire laying in wait for her pray.

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of the forest, a flowing woman
howls of wind, she hears
of the night, a flowing woman
moon of night, she peers

of the quiet, she visits often
a love she cannot trace
of her heart, she cannot soften
a hunger without erase

of her past, there is recalled
a girl cold and lost
of the night, there standing tall
a vampire in the frost

of the snow, that lays in white
a silent whimper sings
of the footprints, in the night
a fear the full moon brings

of the man, she’ll never love
a sorrow without end
of the curse, she’s never free of
a rush of blood amends