I always wonder, what is it that she's thinking. What is it that's on her mind. Is there anything I could help her with? Should I help her? Should I even be thinking of helping her?
I wonder, I ponder, I just can't get my answer. So many questions I want to ask. So many things I wanted to say. But all I could do is to keep all of it at bay.
A fake mask is my only defence. A fragile defence that could crumble at the slightest of touches, yet strong enough to hide my emotions away.
I'm walking forward, yes I am. Looking backwards, every now and then. Breads of crumbs I left behind, for a faint hope that she will follow. How I pray that there would be light when she does.
My every bit of concern for her keeps me looking back, for I longed for her smile, every opportunity I get. A show of concern I did, where no one else could see. Useless and pointless as it is, I couldn't care less. My wish to be her guardian could only be granted by her.
For now, a wandering wonderer I shall wonder, with a trail of bread crumbs, slowly, decomposing away.
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Cool poem. Enjoy it.
Destiny of the Macabre
All my life my destiny has been pre-ordained
Born with the mark of the devil, my path was to be of evil and the dark
Then I met another person of evil, from a different plane
Him, a creature of the night then on me he left the vampire's mark.
Then my morbid existence, was not only evil but of the macabre
Me, having to lurk in the darkness, as I searched for the liquid, I so desperately needed
Searching for unsuspecting victims, so from them, their life force, I could rob
The unquenchable thirst, that always had to be fed
For over a thousand years, I have lurked in the shadows of the macabre
Doing whatever I must, to feed my undying thirst
When I fed, my victims I would never listen to their dying cries and sobs
Always putting my needs, always putting them first.
Now, I live in the biggest city, I could find
Making my hunting ground, a vampire's dream
Oh, so many victims, it's hard to conceive within my evil mind
Each night, I make my pilgrimage, in this big city, murder and death, is part of nature or so it seems.
Try to catch me if you dare
You never will as I unleash my evil, it is my duty, in a way consider it my job
If I find you, I will transport you to the devil's lair
It is my path, it is my destiny of the macabre.
