The Riddle
6 May, 2003
Author: Simik
As the sky turns blue,
Nothing feels right
As the sky fades to night,
I begin to wake
My life exists in darkness
Blood is a must
My immortality exist within my lust
Nothing seems to be right
As the sky brightens,
I am forsed to sleep
As the sky stays,
My coffin is were I lay
My existence is a secret
A few amongst me thought,
If we were to reveal are selves,
Are existence would not stay
What am I but a dead thing
A vampire,
maybe I may be
Although you may not know it,
my existance remains to be
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| ghost (198.81.16.28) -- Wednesday, May 7 2003, 07:59 pm cool poem. I liked how it was a riddle and then you revealed what it/you are. Good writing! |
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