Post by anirbas on May 15, 2007 12:36:17 GMT -6
Your dark clarion call of need
in your fruitless search to find
your equal but opposite force
in the paucity of a human
vessel touches me, Count
And so, by your desire I am re-awakened
To stir hungrily in my jetted shroud and mantle
Fingering the garnets circling my slim ivory throat
in agitated ravenous anticipation
Re-animation inspired to give you what you need
Not a mere blood sacrifice victims abound in the darkness
A tasteless repast that slakes not satiates your thirst
Nothing more nothing less nothing more
I invite you not to me but, I listen
I hear and I stir in the nascence
of all that I am and I rise
pitying your fruitless search
for that which cannot be
The filling of your appetite
but not your empty heart
by the ingestion of the blood
of a human consort
I gave up on drinking
human trash long ago, Count
Learned to sleep between the sounds
of a skilled bat knifing through night skies
My blood congealed then stiffened to dust in my veins
However I heard you this eventide Count Vampyre
Your piteous call has awakened the thirst in me
As I arise to flit the skies in search of the scent
of your human fatted vampirical blood
For I feast on nothing but the best
And you darling Count, smell like dinner
Fine wine and chocolate for dessert to me
No hypnotized human victim am I I shall make
of you my first meal in a thousand years
For I am your equal but opposite force, a Vampyress
Rightfully titled, oft called the Empress of Darkness
Look out, Count I'm right behind you
Nay right above the sweet spot
This won't hurt a bit, sweet
You won't feel a thing
As you find your heart
isn't as empty as you thought
While I drain your precious
elitist vampyrical blood
I'll naught drain you to the last drop
as one would a draught Nay, nay
I give what I receive once I've drawn
you closer to death, than you've been in a millenium
I shall offer this blood to you
That which shall not only slake your thirst
But, satiate you to the point of stellar stillness
As you drift on an inner tide of your own blood
commingled with the ancient effluvience of mine
Your dark clarion call
of need in your fruitless search
to find your equal but opposite
force in the paucity of a human
vessel touches me, Count
So, by your desire I am re-awakened
To stir hungrily in my jetted shroud and mantle
Fingering the garnets circling my slim ivory
throat in agitated, ravenous anticipation
~Sabrina.
^..^
^oo^ ^..^
^oo^ ^..^ ^oo^
^..^ ^oo^
^..^
*bats, leaving the belfry...ggglgggl*
~*~
Errant Thoughts of a Vampyress...
Ah, beloved Count...
Only man I have ever called Emperor,
if not king...This wanton wastrel of the evening,
the taste of your energy, your essence,
does so delight in the divine taste of...
You push and pull...I ebb and flow...
You ebb and flow...I push and pull...
And in the garneted feast of you...
I am satiated...Replete...
I drain you...
Even as you drain me...
Replacing drainage
with shared
rare as rubies,
liquidic synchronicity...
And so,
the dance
of the spirits
does continue...
A tidal wave
of unrequited
passion, held
in abeyance...
Til it just isn't...
It just isn't...
Just isn't...
Isn't...
You push and pull...I ebb and flow...
You ebb and flow...I push and pull...
As I await your reappearance, Count...
The emperor of my nights and fantasies...
Breathless with impatience for my next audience with you...
Though you would never stoop to call yourself my king...
I would dare to call you my lord and liege...
As that's just the way it is...
For your essential flavor,
sweet, yet peppery-
does so inspire to reawakening,
the walking dead within me...
To the silliest of heights
and the grandest of passions...
As I lick my life dried and chapped lips...
Awaiting the poignant piquancy
of my next taste of you, as...
Ah, beloved Count...
Only man I have ever called Emperor,
if not king...This wanton, wastrel of the evening,
the taste of your energy, your essence,
does so delight in the divine taste of...
For in the garneted feast of you...
I am satiated...Replete...
And that's just the way it is...
in your fruitless search to find
your equal but opposite force
in the paucity of a human
vessel touches me, Count
And so, by your desire I am re-awakened
To stir hungrily in my jetted shroud and mantle
Fingering the garnets circling my slim ivory throat
in agitated ravenous anticipation
Re-animation inspired to give you what you need
Not a mere blood sacrifice victims abound in the darkness
A tasteless repast that slakes not satiates your thirst
Nothing more nothing less nothing more
I invite you not to me but, I listen
I hear and I stir in the nascence
of all that I am and I rise
pitying your fruitless search
for that which cannot be
The filling of your appetite
but not your empty heart
by the ingestion of the blood
of a human consort
I gave up on drinking
human trash long ago, Count
Learned to sleep between the sounds
of a skilled bat knifing through night skies
My blood congealed then stiffened to dust in my veins
However I heard you this eventide Count Vampyre
Your piteous call has awakened the thirst in me
As I arise to flit the skies in search of the scent
of your human fatted vampirical blood
For I feast on nothing but the best
And you darling Count, smell like dinner
Fine wine and chocolate for dessert to me
No hypnotized human victim am I I shall make
of you my first meal in a thousand years
For I am your equal but opposite force, a Vampyress
Rightfully titled, oft called the Empress of Darkness
Look out, Count I'm right behind you
Nay right above the sweet spot
This won't hurt a bit, sweet
You won't feel a thing
As you find your heart
isn't as empty as you thought
While I drain your precious
elitist vampyrical blood
I'll naught drain you to the last drop
as one would a draught Nay, nay
I give what I receive once I've drawn
you closer to death, than you've been in a millenium
I shall offer this blood to you
That which shall not only slake your thirst
But, satiate you to the point of stellar stillness
As you drift on an inner tide of your own blood
commingled with the ancient effluvience of mine
Your dark clarion call
of need in your fruitless search
to find your equal but opposite
force in the paucity of a human
vessel touches me, Count
So, by your desire I am re-awakened
To stir hungrily in my jetted shroud and mantle
Fingering the garnets circling my slim ivory
throat in agitated, ravenous anticipation
~Sabrina.
^..^
^oo^ ^..^
^oo^ ^..^ ^oo^
^..^ ^oo^
^..^
*bats, leaving the belfry...ggglgggl*
~*~
Errant Thoughts of a Vampyress...
Ah, beloved Count...
Only man I have ever called Emperor,
if not king...This wanton wastrel of the evening,
the taste of your energy, your essence,
does so delight in the divine taste of...
You push and pull...I ebb and flow...
You ebb and flow...I push and pull...
And in the garneted feast of you...
I am satiated...Replete...
I drain you...
Even as you drain me...
Replacing drainage
with shared
rare as rubies,
liquidic synchronicity...
And so,
the dance
of the spirits
does continue...
A tidal wave
of unrequited
passion, held
in abeyance...
Til it just isn't...
It just isn't...
Just isn't...
Isn't...
You push and pull...I ebb and flow...
You ebb and flow...I push and pull...
As I await your reappearance, Count...
The emperor of my nights and fantasies...
Breathless with impatience for my next audience with you...
Though you would never stoop to call yourself my king...
I would dare to call you my lord and liege...
As that's just the way it is...
For your essential flavor,
sweet, yet peppery-
does so inspire to reawakening,
the walking dead within me...
To the silliest of heights
and the grandest of passions...
As I lick my life dried and chapped lips...
Awaiting the poignant piquancy
of my next taste of you, as...
Ah, beloved Count...
Only man I have ever called Emperor,
if not king...This wanton, wastrel of the evening,
the taste of your energy, your essence,
does so delight in the divine taste of...
For in the garneted feast of you...
I am satiated...Replete...
And that's just the way it is...
