This is a slightly different way to read the poems above from a single perspective. Below are 26 poems telling a single-sided story.
Escape the Darkness
Over the Horizon, I see the light of the Sun.
Shining across the city,
Beyond the sky and into the ground
People walking around, busy and not caring about the world,
Not caring about me.
I stand in normality, in public, with people surrounding all around.
Just carrying on with their lives, all going around me.
The world shining in being urban average,
People wearing normal clothes, just going to work or school,
Meeting friends or family or having secret rendezvous.
I am just normal, walking down a normal road,
My friends by my side, just talking away,
All smiling and happy to be with me in the light.
I see the impossible,
I see the light of my dreams.
An escape from the darkness,
Awake Once Again
The End of the day brings many things, including me.
Out of the darkness of my slumber and into the darkness of the night.
The tomb of my body begins to slither into this life,
My eyes opening and with my sight,
I see my darkness, twisting and turning above me,
I open the door into the realm of life.
I am Awake
In my new reality of darkness and of being reborn,
I see the world move forward with the light of the day shining their way,
Whereas the darkness of my time keeps me prisoner in isolation.
Yet, the light is what I hate, and the darkness keeps me craving,
My new reality is of being beyond the light and taking the people within it.
Bathing in the darkness,
I am their final saviour. I give them their final gift. I need another.
I am Awake.
Am I starting to get used to this?
A life away from everybody and picking my delight for the night.
Feeding my body is too intoxicating to resist, the urges from within.
Friday night is my night for going out and finding my weekly food supply,
Finding my man to satisfy me for the rest of the week,
Is not too difficult.
A large guy with enough to feed me tonight,
And keep me happy for another week.
Maybe until Cranky Thursday,
But it is better to take a single life rather than a pair.
Blood bags might help me out on the weekdays but,
The warmth, the taste, the urge for live blood is just too good.
It is my great sin but, religion does not matter to me anymore.
Now that life and death is defined by me, the monster in the dark.
Should I continue this perverted way of live?
There is no goal, no ambition, no body,
Who loves me or I love beyond their blood?
I am stuck in a cycle with only 1 way out,
The final sin but,
Tonight, my way is to enjoy the greatest taste of my life,
The fresh blood of a good, young man.
I think tonight I will go somewhere new.
A place that nobody will recognise me for my past.
Somewhere with what I need on this glorious evening.
Plenty of options to select the best meal.
There should be at least 1 man in there for me on this Friday night.
Otherwise, I will go to the Chicks Den and get myself a lady takeaway.
I prefer men in most ways so, maybe he will be a really good night.
Not just a bite delight like the ladies.
Then again, I have a huge appetite tonight.
My insides are craving some fresh blood.
I cannot wait, I am on my way, my delight.
Walking is just making me crave, more and more.
With every step my imagination grows,
Of my opportunities on this clear moon filled night,
Hidden in the shadows, I am getting closer and closer.
I can feel the blood swirling around,
Finally, it is my time.
Friday night is my night.
At the Bar
I look through a sea of candidates,
Each looks and offers a different possibility,
But which is the right one for tonight.
There are a few that seem interested in me,
Eyes staring through, across and around the room, all for me.
What a delight but, none of them seem quite right.
All with ego, ignorance, and spite.
That is normally my delight but, it is not working for me tonight.
All but one from across the room,
Standing at the bar, his eyes lighting a path from me to him,
He seems to be a mortal geek dreaming awake tonight.
He wants to talk to me but, seems too shy to take control,
His feelings are running through his head rather than acting through his body.
Internal passion rather than external lust.
Our eyes seem to be locked.
I want him to see more of me,
I smile at the sight of him smiling at me,
I move towards him, the sea of people divided between us.
He looks away in shame, he thinks I am too good for him.
I feel I should get to know this mortal, a new challenge for me.
The First Word
What do you say to a guy pretending not to exist?
Wanting to disappear into thin air.
I can see him looking for me, in the corner of his eye,
This little creeper is definitely interested in me,
This might get weird, but let’s have some fun.
I tap him on the shoulder,
His head slowly turns, and he looks surprised,
His eyes looking through mine and it feels like he is looking behind my eyes.
The conversation starts so very slow,
Just a single word from his mouth,
But his heart is pumping hard.
He is definitely not a confident fella,
But he starts opening up to me, the more we speak,
Our souls and minds becoming more intertwined,
He begins to smile and seems to be enjoying my company.
He has a great mind and wit,
And seems to be full of the red stuff,
This might just be, my lucky night.
It is a shame that it will come to an end,
But that is the way of the Friday Night.
Just a Name
To most people,
Names are not important,
To me, it gives an opportunity a name,
I don’t want to think about the previous Friday nights,
As the names of the forgotten,
When I enjoy what they give me.
The souls that delighted me from months ago,
Just the thought hurts.
I enjoy this new life for a minority of my time,
And I don’t need that minority to get smaller,
Because I know my victim’s names.
I don’t even believe in my own name,
I don’t use it unless, it is absolutely necessary.
My Christian name is fading as the girl left the mortal reality.
That girl died and left me in her coffin.
So of course, names are important to the mortals,
But a name gives them a greater soul than I already see,
I don’t need to know his name, I am enjoying my time with him now,
I suspect I will enjoy my time with him later even more.
The Right Selection
Sometimes I pick my man for the night and I later change my mind,
They don’t quite work for me,
They lose interest in me or vice versa.
If anything, this man is too good.
I actually like this person stood in front of me.
I like his attitude to life, intelligence, and society.
I almost don’t want to continue this conversation,
I don’t want the man in front of me to be ended by me,
For my lust for blood to cause his death.
But he seems like a good prospect,
He smells too good to resist,
His heartbeat makes my desire for him unstoppable,
Somebody who will truly satisfy my thirst,
I am enjoying my night with him,
So why end it now,
With me looking for somebody that may not be as good an option as him,
And leaving him disappointed with his night.
I don’t want to leave him right now,
He doesn’t appear to want to leave me right now,
So, my decision is already made,
But I think this night is going to be easy in some ways,
And difficult afterwards.
When I first started hunting alone,
I didn’t want to know anything about my meal for the evening,
Apart from where I should implant my fangs for the night.
Now, getting to know my weekly conquest has become,
The only meaningful conversation of the week,
A part of my favourite time of the week.
I never expected talking to be pleasurable,
Something that I would actively enjoy.
But isolation for 6 nights gives me a reason,
To do something different on my Friday.
Hunt, talk, enjoy and feed has become my routine,
Just 1 step away from the ultimate satisfaction,
I can hardly contain my urges.
But, why waste this mortal,
He can stimulate my mind,
In more ways than just his blood.
I went to the bathroom to see if he would run away,
To give him a chance to get away.
I still have a small conscious but, when I return to the Bar,
He is sat there, waiting for me.
His smile shines in the darkness of the pub at night.
As I walk towards him once more,
I decide to take the next step,
And make him an offer that no man or woman has refused in months.
He looks surprised and happy,
Without another word, I take his hand and lead him away,
I can feel his heartbeat through his hand,
As we walk into the darkness of the night.
The Darkness Blanket
I used to be scared of the dark,
Wondering who was lurking around any corner,
Hoping the light of the moon and stars would help me home.
Now I see the dark as my comfort zone,
The shadows of the light,
A place to hide the real monster on the streets of the night.
A cool breeze blows down the road,
My adrenaline grows with every thought,
We are getting closer with every step.
I don’t dare let go of him,
He seems happy to be in my grasp,
I will be even happier soon.
Excitement of Fantasy
My excitement seems to be viral,
It seems to be rubbing off on him.
The joy of getting closer to the future.
The more excited they get,
The better they inevitably taste,
As the blood is energised,
And made all the richer for me.
It is also fun to have somebody to laugh and smile with.
Spending so much time alone each week,
Makes me get a little more excited each week.
Excited for the future in the present,
Both of us enjoying our time together,
Excited by each other in the present,
And the fantasy of the future.
Hidden from the Light
This is the dark spot of this side of town,
Streetlights turned off for financial reasons,
Presents an opportunity for me every Friday night.
Every time I get to this spot on this night,
I want to take the opportunity presented to me,
To end it all now,
Change the excitement of the future to the joy of the present.
I once did just that,
One of the jocks took a fancy to me,
And I needed my meal for the night,
He wasn’t somebody that I cared for but,
His muscular body was very enticing,
I wanted to do something different,
Add some new excitement to my favourite night of the week,
So, whilst he was busy boasting about his history,
I took away his future and enjoyed my present.
The consequences afterwards were difficult,
The memory of the taste is great,
But it stops me every week.
Although, I am enjoying my time this week with this man,
Enjoying the moment at home should be better,
Less consequences and the likelihood of more fun and desire.
A Ritual for Success
His suggestion of going to his house is interesting,
I sort of want to see more of his personality.
But then I remember who I am now.
It would break my ritual and my security of the night.
Every Friday night should not be and is never the same,
But following a similar pattern each and every week,
Gives me the security and control over my man for the night.
Sometimes it is not even a man I am taking to my house.
Sometimes I cannot resist the urge until my house.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t want my own coffin for tomorrow,
Without a need to find a way of getting back to my bed,
In the light of the day or tomorrow night,
And raise any sort of concerns in his neighbourhood, or even his household.
I know what I want, and it is now inevitable.
I know my lair, my neighbourhood, it is impossible for him to escape me now.
My House without a Street
We turn the corner on the country lane,
And there stands a building between the trees.
There are no other buildings in sight,
As we go dance down the crest of the hill.
This latest house of mine isn’t welcoming,
But it does give me the privacy I desire.
Nobody snooping around or looking for any trouble,
Whilst I can enjoy my Saturday mornings.
The darkness of the night continues to grow,
As the glow of nearby streetlights fade, further and further away.
We are now isolated in the beautiful countryside,
What a beautiful proposition?
Sometimes when I introduce somebody to my lair,
They run away scared,
It is a little gothic,
There are no lightbulbs on the ceiling,
Just candles to light around the room,
Shadows elongate and the darkness is prevalent,
Sometimes my selection tries to leave me,
But I can’t let them.
I have worked hard to get this far,
I am not about to let them run away.
Sometimes physical persuasion can be,
Very enticing and work to my advantage,
And sometimes I have a little exercise before my weekly meal.
Every single week is a little different,
The unpredictability adds to more excitement,
But I have learnt my lesson,
Never stand too far away from the door until,
We are both comfortable,
And I don’t have to worry about the rabbit holes outside slowing me down.
The Reaction to a Reaction
As we walk inside my lair,
Alright my little house in the middle of nowhere,
I show him inside and seems too polite to decline,
I turn on the lights for the first time in a week,
I look to see his face, his reaction to my place.
He stands just within the door and his face seemingly has no emotion,
Scanning the room before him, not a smile or frown to be seen,
His thoughts hidden behind his face, beyond view.
Such a reaction is a little weird,
Normally people have a view one way or another,
Obvious to see and clear from the words they speak,
But he just isn’t like the others,
My gothic palace seems to have not made him run,
Nor has it made him sing or cheerily hum or laugh,
I await his view, his opinion for my place,
It seems like eternity from his decision to be confirmed,
Seconds are passing slower than minutes,
I prompt him to end my agony.
A Stranger’s Home
His reaction slowly turns from shock,
To a resemblance of don’t act weird in front her look.
It is kind that he is trying to hide his discomfort,
More for my feelings than his own,
How considerate of him to change for me.
I am little more than a stranger in this building myself,
But at least it is more comfortable than it was in the heatwave.
I turn on the TV to add a little more light to this living room,
And to appeal to his sensibilities,
Explaining my favourite TV shows at the moment,
Putting him in a good comfort zone,
Of the familiar visible through me.
We seem to enjoy the same TV shows,
Who knew cartoons could be enjoyed by both men and monsters?
I play the role of the perfect host,
Offering him a seat of his choice, the TV and a drink,
I can see what he genuinely wants by the way he looks at me,
I have some good ideas of my own for this night,
For now, I await the right time for my idea to become a present of reality.
A Final Request
Why make somebody who is a means to an end, a drink?
Why put them on a pedestal?
Because sometimes I meet genuinely nice people and they deserve,
Some kind of respect and affection from me.
At the end of the day, it is not their fault.
They are necessary for me and they were the unlucky people chosen.
The man sat through there, watching TV doesn’t deserve disrespect,
Everything must end at some point,
Just because something must end, it does not mean it has to be sad.
I won’t be sad so, why should he be sad.
He deserves a final drink, a final happy moment.
Enjoying the present moments together.
That doesn’t mean that he won’t be delicious,
And ultimately taste amazing,
As they always do.
It is just irresistible.
The Whole Body
Television and Movies tell-all mortal men and women,
Romance and intimacy are about pleasing certain parts of the body,
This information for me is false.
Feeling the heat through my skin,
The heartbeat pounding and the breathing flowing,
Every part of the body is important in romantic situations.
I am enjoying this so much, I don’t want it to end,
But he turns his head away and the intimacy quickly ends,
And I don’t know why.
He seems to be riddled with guilt,
His whole-body language has slowly transitioned,
From a picture of warmth, to a more uncomfortable frame.
Nobody has ever pulled away from me in my chair.
I am left surprised and disappointed,
I am waiting for what happens next.
The Curse of Honesty
Why did he have to share his soul with me?
It just makes me want to be honest with him,
And I could never do that, could I?
His story just makes me want to hug him, not kill him.
He is an oddball that I pity one minute,
And I admire in the next moment.
If only I had met him before I died,
Then I could have actually been with this guy for more than 1 night,
Maybe had a good life.
But if I wasn’t living my present life,
Then I wouldn’t have met him,
And he may not have been attracted to me.
He doesn’t like the old me,
He likes the bloodthirsty manipulator,
He just does not know it.
The First Time
I have never told anybody my darkest secret,
So why am I telling this hot blood bag,
He doesn’t care and he won’t do in a minute.
If anything, he is more likely to fight back if he knows what I am going to do,
But, does he deserve more than that?
Why do I care what he thinks?
If he cares about me?
I have got this far tonight,
Sunrise is only a few hours away,
I have been doing this for years,
So why do I care so much this week.
Why am I telling him the truth I try so hard to hide?
His whole face seems confused,
Not knowing how to react to my confession.
I don’t know what else to say,
I want his approval, his permission.
But what happens if he does not give it to me???
I can’t let him run,
I can’t let him tell my secret to anybody,
I need to stop him.
I need his blood.
I need him now.
I am so hungry!
I can’t control myself!
YES, INCREDIBLE, BRILLIANT.
You taste AMAZING.
You are MINE!
Not the Plan
Looking at you now,
I didn’t go out tonight to feel guilty,
I didn’t go out tonight to meet you,
I wanted a nice midnight meal,
And I could dream the death away.
Could I dream you away?
Why are you so difficult?
I can feel the warmth of you, within me.
I want more,
But I also want to keep you alive.
What if you hate me for being me?
What do I do?
What if you hate me for making you like me?
You actually like being with me?
Don’t you hate me?
I really like being with you.
Even if it was only for a few hours.
Just looking at your eyes,
I want to be with you, for longer.
And there is only one way to make that happen.
I have never done this before, but it is the only way
Just, drink from me.
As I drank from you.
It will save you.
It may save me.
The Consequences of Mercy
I have given him an eternal life, from his death,
From my own blood.
I have never done this before, never gave myself to another.
Now I have got this drained mortal in front of me, changing for me.
All for a choice I made and now I have the consequences.
I need to move him somewhere more comfortable,
But where in this damned house is that?
He can have my bed,
He can sleep with me tonight.
That will keep him close and safe,
Comfortable in my coffin.
Safe from the light, so he can sleep tight,
At the end of this crazy night.
I lift him, carry him, and put him to rest inside my safe place,
I join him, in a much tighter space than I imagined.
He sleeps, not realising the changes around him,
Not realising the changes within him,
For now, he is safe with me, in my arms.
Sleep tight at the end of this night,
Tomorrow you will wake to your new reality.
I hope you can change my reality.
I hope you can add some purpose to my life,
And help me with my trouble and strife.
Then again, maybe I will need to help you,
Maybe you want my help, or you hate me now.
I don’t even know you; you don’t even know me.
Why did I start feeling these emotions for you?
Do you have any real feelings for me?
I am supposed to be a merciless killer.
You are supposed to be nothing but a good night,
But maybe you can be more than a helpless prey,
My knight of my night for the rest of eternity?
Maybe I can be your queen for our eternity?
“Sleep tight, your future begins from now,
Today you died for your precious queen.
But your queen has given you the greatest gift, she could ever give you.
You are special to your Queen and never forget that.
Tomorrow begins your life with me,
Your new Queen.”
To go to the Previous Section of the Book, Perspective of K, click here.
To go to the Next Section of the Book, The Conclusion, click here.
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