Drip, drip goes the blood from your vein
Grading down the fleshy hill of your neck
A sumptuous treat for this denizen of darkness
A mortal in my arms that’s slain
I am sated for but one night
Tomorrow I’ll do this again
For another unfortunate mortal soul I sight
Shall forever be my gain
Filed under poetry
I'm copyright protected
Ellen Grace Olinger
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