He asked for help, she let him in,
Then sank her teeth into his skin;
His laugh was cruel
He said ‘You fool!
‘It is no use for we are kin.’
The blood that flows throughout my veins
Will cause you nothing more than pain;
It is no fix,
It will not mix,
And it will give you only pain.
For I created you that night
And then I vanished out of sight;
You were near death,
On your last breath,
And too far gone to feel the bite.
© 2014 Fay Herridge