The taste of blood fills my mouth,
cold as steel, yet warm with life.
The heart, which pumps, comes to a stop,
as that warm, crimson, liquid runs down my chin.
The mixure of feelings stimulates my spirit, and vitalizes my mind.
The invigerating chill of death,
permeates the area like a wraith on the verge.
But in the end, I still search,
always longing,
to caress the soft flesh of a mortal,
then drain the life from their body.
without remorse,
without guilt,
without shame,
but always with longing.