Monday, 7 April 2008

Porphyria


We abhor light but love the dark
avoid water and drink blood
our skin is pale we have no pulse
dash into the night like the flood

Creatures of the dark we are
immortal wise, undead
we smell human flesh from far
and to all we spread dread

Some mortals say we are sick
cursed with a genetic flaw
yet they envy our kind deep
when to death they all bow

We feast on your flesh
your mizerous souls we release
you may see it as a bless
you'll meet your maker in bliss
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