Roused from decades of sepulchral slumber
By savage cannonades and rifle fire,
Departing the dark comfort of my tomb,
I roam a mad world ripped apart by war.
Venturing forth like a smoky blue veil
Wafting across this cratered countryside,
Searching for the base essence of being,
I am drawn to fields of lingering death.
Drifting amidst battle-broken bodies,
Ignoring agonizing cries of pain,
Invisible to dimming mortal eyes,
I harvest embers of vitality.
Finding a suitably ravaged vessel,
Sensing sustenance within battered flesh,
I drain lifeblood to feed this hungry soul –
A dying youth becomes my golden cup.
Energies flow from spirit to spirit
Fuelling my ethereal existence.
Leaving behind the soldier’s empty husk
I retreat into deepening shadows
(Originally published in The Monsters Next Door, Contest Issue 4.5, November 15, 2008.)