I can feel it's approach, a demon or a ghost deep within my bones,
tearing away my soul, my freedom overthrown by witches I've stoned.
A sickness, unknown, I breathe in the cold and itch at my throat...
nails like daggers as shards of flesh paint the canvas; crimson snow.
I hear the dogs and the screams, villagers cursed by what they've seen,
pitchforks and rifles, rivaled by my newly discovered sense of immortality.
"Behead the beast!" "Remove his heart, if he has such a thing!"
Their foolish ignorance leaves me annoyed... at least their blood is sweet.
The entire battle is mostly a blur, slurred words and mutilated bodies,
as my powers are demonstrated, wrongly, but who can I tell I'm sorry?
Anyone who knows my true self is doomed, Hell consumes the mind,
anytime the sky opens and the moon shines bright, I lose my human side.
I'm confused and confined by the hues of blue aligned with moonlight,
when it's full, I become a tool of dark magic that sparks a tragic odyssey.
Honestly... I wish someone would spread my chest with a silver bullet...
ending this nightmare and putting to rest the whimpering culprit.
I heard myths of Van Helsing battling Vlad Tepes not long ago,
but that was when my hope was at it's all time fullest.
Now I'm lost in the rain, a monster insane, driven by hunger,
waiting for the day bravery conquers horror or I'm stricken by thunder.
Kill the beast and set me free, I plead beneath every drop...
amused by the ruse of Christians that believe in God.
If he truly existed then what are his intentions with creatures like me?
Unless I am part of the key to keeping faith among the weaker
-- I see.
Links:
"Us" by Witty
"Negativity" by Trajik