A gathering of beasts

A reluctant communiqué for we don’t speak of us with you.
A disassociation strengthens your disbelief in that which you do not understand.
Our Masquerade, a facade of fantasy, but we are here.

In nocturnal brilliance we dine.
Discarding convention to inhabit a sleeping world.
For while you sleep our hearts beat fast, save they do not beat at all.
I am a creature of will, what my mind summons I enslave.
The rudimentary actions of organs do not labour me.

Rather I harbour desire and dependence.
You know not longing until you embrace what I am.
The deepest darkest craving of your soul is but a fleeting second to me.
I live desire.

I crave your warmth, that which flows through you.
You call it blood, but blood is only the conduit.
It facilitates the essence of you.
That which I need to sustain.

I hold great power, my mind knows not of limits.
My suggestions are enough to snap your will.
I would snap your bones with similar ease for physics bends to me.
Over matter I hold some authority, cars I lift with fingers and leave in my wake as I move.
Light has no dominion over me, it defines not my speed.

But for all my strength I will admit flaws. My second trait, dependence.
We are solitary creatures but we find purpose in love.
In this we do not discriminate, I have held that which I have loved and watch it wither while I struggled to hold back the turning.
For my weakness is your strength.
That which I love I will fight for and moreover I would never impose my circumstances on.

Conflicted creature I was once called.

So as you my love draw your final breaths I share with you all that I am, something I could never do while you held strength.
But I have watched always.
I have protected you forever.
None of my kind have ventured on your path for they fear that which made them.
I am pure born, a dying breed.
You have nothing to fear my love, death will not separate us for I am already dead.
I would cry despite it’s futility but I cannot so instead I hold your hand.
Exhale that which sustains you one final time and know I will continue to hold vigil over your essence until winged ones come to carry it home.

Who am I?

I am vampire, you but not you.
I am vampire, the imperfect mirror.
I am vampire, yours always.

~ by Paul McGovern on July 3, 2011.

Leave a comment