The Dance of Feeding (A Poem)

He walks the night
This creature of pleasure
He is untouchable
This beast of the senses
He is too beautiful,
Too fine to be mortal
A work of art in motion
Perfection in the making
His voice is the feel of silk
His movements are liquid
His smell is the moonrise
His touch is seduction
He is made of all beauty
How can one such as this be?
How can he live as he does?
Such beauty, such perfection…
And he is the son of the devil

He lives the night
This prince of blood lust
He has seen worlds rise and fall
As the breathing of a child
He is too beautiful,
Too handsome to be loved
A song that sings itself
Beauty untouchable
He seduces without thought
Daughters, Sisters, Wives, Mothers
They lay themselves out before him
Awaiting his cold embrace,
Both tender and terrible
They beg for him, pine for him
Because they know they will never,
Never be able to have him
Because he is the vampire king

He rules the night
This broken reflection of life
He has been a thousand men
Has lived under a thousand names
As a man he was a simple soldier
A warrior who met the devil on eve
Before the battle piqued and broke…
Before he could die
“I offer you the world,” the antichrist tempted
And the soldier accepted,
The son of the Devil, now and forever
Perfect beauty for a lost soul
Impossible strength for a lost belief
Immortality for the light of day
What he gave up he has forgotten
Forsaken for the taste of the living wine
Forsaken… for perfection

He is the night
This spirit of darkness
He has killed so many,
Has seen such terrible things
He is too beautiful,
To perfect to feel sorrow
He begins the dance of feeding
A smile, a look and the dance starts
She is amazed that he has chosen her
They dance, they walk, the laugh and talk
And then, he takes her out into the darkness
He takes her and holds her close
A brief flash of pain, a shock of cold
And then fiery pleasure that consumes
She falls without life and then she rises
She is too beautiful,
Too fine to be mortal…