Midnight of the Haunted Soul
A hollow poet’s soul,
Eyes wide and haunted
Whispers in the dark
Body bled and taunted
Upon cold marble floor
Wrapped in sharp cutting chains,
Blade clasped in his hand
Drinks deep from her veins
Imps claw at her body,
Sweet soul now enchained,
Hot breath on her face
Then convulsions of pain
She awakes with the dawn
Into mirror she stares,
The eyes that look back
Plea with muted despair
Walking forever beside her
Faceless haunter of dreams
Blade pressed to her veins
He feeds on her screams
© Amanda Lancaster, 2006
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