by Sheryl Hanna (24 Nov 95)
At the base of the Bihor mountains in Rumania,
The village of Solta is the place,
Where the vampire's stirring in the night takes place,
As he impoverished the town,
In his quest for sanguine ecstacy!
There are no such things or are there?
This morning I awoke in an utmost stupor,
Two puncture holes above my jugular,
He will strike again tonight!
When the moon is full and bright!
Leaving me almost dead and in agony!
By day the children search for garlic buds,
To be placed in the windows,
A painted cross on every inhabitants door,
At every throat a metal one,
The residents withn their homes shuddering in fear from his
Pervading in the night!
There is no way to escape his mesmerizing eyes,
I was hypnotized,
It was under his spell that I was compelled,
Barred entrances cannot keep him away!
I gave way to his immortal kiss!
Forever I will walk as he,
Passing through centuries preserved in time,
So you see they really do exist!
For I am proof,
For I have become as he!