• Come midnight there is a fright.
    The full moon brings the children of the night.
    Dark creatures coming from hell’s bowls.
    The wolves wake the night with their howls.

    The poet writes his dark rhyme.
    His heart black as this nights time.
    His blood lust overcoming his soul.
    His eyes becoming as dark as coal.

    His love for the night gives power.
    And even the moon in his presence will cower.
    He summons his ghouls up from the mud.
    His goblet full of his loves’ blood.

    The dark passion of his Vampress’ love.
    Bring the wolves howls from the night above
    Alas his love shall not last in his heart.
    For he has been pierced by a holy dart.

    As his love sees him fall from the hunters stake.
    She knows for him it was a fatal mistake.
    The hunter stares at her his soul filled with fear abound.
    She looks to him hatefully and send out her hounds.

    The fight end quickly as he did not last.
    She looks to her love fallen, and gazes at her past.
    She drinks of his fallen blood and take the stake of holy water.
    Her hand burns as she thrusts her heart in his honor.

    This night two children of the dark fall dead.
    The vampire poet and his Vampress bye his stead.
    The dark king forever with his night queen.
    The wolves his slaves forever walk were he had bee