(beware: writen a while ago, just dug it up)
A drop of blood
drips from the fangs
that gleam white
like ivory in the
pool of light that
the moon gives off.
A body lies motionless
in a meadow near
the rushing sound of
the sea, never stopping
to mourn the ones
we have lost.
Eyes shimmer excitedly
though no one sees
the owner, who stays
in isolation, afraid of
what she's become.
A child cowers in
her bed, afraid of
the nightmare she's
been having for the past
three thousand years.
