Until The Blood is Gone
A poem about cosmic vampirism.
To the point of blood.
Any blood will do, any at all.
He will chase the birds in the sky
Until the blisters rip off,
The thorns pierce arteries,
And dust gathers in the chambers
Of a failing heart.
.
To the point of blood.
Warm life that can heat him up.
He hunts the satisfaction to his hunger
Inside the galaxies
Stretching lazily overhead
As though they aren't
Prime targets.
.
To the point of blood.
Until the hunger has been killed.
He races the moon with a knife,
Daring to cut into the black tapestry
And open his mouth to catch
Crimson droplets of
The slaughtered gods.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Writer of the dark! Think of it like flipping rocks, the weird little stories underneath are my jam and jelly. Jam and butter? Just jam. Absolutely no use of AI in any of my works :)
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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