Nunca beses a un Vampiro en Diciembre

Poem:

Beneath the Blood Moon

(by Elizabeth Baez)

In shadows deep where silence breathes,

He walks alone through crimson leaves.

A whisper haunts the midnight air—

A name once soft, now lost, nowhere.

His eyes, twin stars of withered flame,

Reflect the weight of endless shame.

He drank of love, then drank her light,

Now cursed to roam the hollow night.

No heartbeat drums within his chest,

Just hunger burning without rest.

The moon, a wound that never heals,

Reveals the pain no grave conceals.

He does not weep, he cannot pray,

He sleeps in stone by break of day.

And when the dusk returns to bloom,

He rises—bound beneath the moon.

For once he kissed with lips so red,

A girl who dreamed of love—and bled.

Now every night he hears her cry,

And sees her ghost when he walks by.