Creative Works… 198
The Vampire
by J. Luke Herman
Her glasses were crooked, With a smile took, Like something she had read in a book, “How to keep them ripe before feeding,” Because anyone could tell, If they looked at her and said “well,” “She’s just another vampire,” Sucking at the souls of men, Drinking their blood like cocktails at the end of the party, While they’d say they were sorry, She would just stand there and laugh behind sheepish eyes, While she feasted on them till dry, Before sucking the last drop and saying goodbye, On to the next one she’d go, The corpse-ridden trail too faint to smell, If she’d caught you in her gaze with those diamond eyes, But hasn’t he got a silvered sword? A brain and a score of wit? Of course, but does he swing? Nay, for the demon preys with deception, Keeping true that the blade be muzzled so it won’t bite, The coward, But anyone could tell, If they looked at her and said “well, She’s just another vampire,” Sucking at the souls of men.