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Vampyrism~



By the Moon we sport and play... with the night, comes our day..




Hello there, and welcome to my Vampyrism page...
I have a warm spot in my heart for this subject. I don't know why it fascinates me like it does.. it just does!
So here you'll find some of my favorite links, as well as some of my favorite vampyre poems and the such...
Enjoy!







~ The Vampire Creed ~


I am a Vampire.
I worship my ego and I worship my life, for I am the only God that is.
I am proud that I am a predatory animal and I honor my animal instincts.
I exalt my rational mind and hold no belief that is in defiance of reason.
I recognize the difference between the worlds of truth and fantasy.
I acknowledge the fact that survival is the highest law.
I acknowledge the Powers of Darkness to be hidden natural laws through which I work my magick.
I know that my beliefs in Ritual are fantasy but the magick is real, and I respect and acknowledge the results of my magick.
I realize there is no above as ther is no below, and I view death as the destroyer of life.
Therefore I will make the most of life here and now.
I am a Vampire.
Bow down before me.


Taken from The Vampire Bible \ Temple of the Vampire

If you would like information on TOV, please email me and I will send you the address..





Vamp links...

Enter the dark side of the web..
The Vampire White page...
Sabretooth, online Vamp catalog specializing in custom made fangs...
The Vampire Archive
The Vampire Vulnerability test...
Cool links~
Back home...





Migrating birds settle themselves among the tangled recesses of her dark hair...
as shadowhands of silver and blue ripple across her solemn face.
Her voice forms words in a trembling language whose syllables are in the movements of the sea against the shore.
Her voice calls to me down the narrow stone corridors of musty catacombs, the twisted cobblestone streets of decayed cities, the obscure pathways snaking through moonlit woods.
Always her voice is just ahead of me, around the next corner, behind the trees, as I stumble on, listening to the exotic deliriums her voice promises, to the lustful prayers she mutters into the breeze.
Onward I stumble, down moonlit staircases carved from frail bone, through arches formed by hallowed out skulls, over canals of black water whos currents sweep by in restless movement.
In the dim light her hands assemble in memories of my life, and the memories she fashions are set adrift in the air, like bird of smoke or delicate angels of glass.
They swirl in the black air, just visible, as they float ever higher into the night sky.
Each memory she fashions and sets free is taken from me, wiped clean from my mind, and I become transparent by degrees, cleaner, and filled with an empty light.
When I find her I shall take her in my weary arms, I shall hold her close to me, and I shall kiss each drop of sparkling blood from her many weary faces.





Email: daemaun@mindless.com