The Misanthropic Vamp
Among the hidden, destitute and darker elements
Patiently awaiting her next blood meal
A creature scorned for centuries by the light..
Dares not love those that she needs to survive
She needs no distractions from her nightly hunt
Her bitterness oozing like a festering open sore
For all mankind and their social maladies manifested
In their hatred, greed, disgust, prejudice and sickness
As she draws their life blood into her very being
She renders her justice upon the snivering hords
That fall into her grasp, slowly sipping their life force
And therefore ridding the world of one less evil
poem by Frances Ayers
Added by Poetry Lover
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