Take-out for the Un-dead
Sweet sleep holds me breathless,
at least in dreams I can forget
that death is not a choice I have.
The black of closed lids keeps me sane.
To wake again, to rise from the hard earth,
my cold, lonely chamber bed.
I stand, stretch, and grin with despair.
Unfortunately, I must go again
among those who think me a myth.
I glide, eyes down, wondering who's reality
I shall destroy during this night's charade.
I did not ask to become this animal of prey,
this monster of a child's nightmare.
To dwell on what I can not change
does not bring me comfort,
but to accept it...a two-edged sword.
So I go, suffocated by immortality, searching
for that which sustains my un-numbered days.
I hear a breath on the wind;
the sigh of a disappointed man.
I lift my dark eyes, beckoning him with a glance.
I must make him want me.
I turn as he moves behind me,
his warm mortal breath
pours down my cold, pale neck.
I walk on, knowing he will follow...
The hunted chasing the hunter.
Email: rayn@rocketmail.com
