| Evil's Lair | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| This pic is by Chris Achilles, It's one of my favorites. ~Evil |
But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent: Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race: There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse: Thy victims, ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are wither'd on the stem... Wet with thine own best blood shall drip Thy gnashing tooth and haggard lip; Then stalking to thy sullen grace, Go - and with Gouls and Afrits rave; Till these in horror shrink away From spectre more accursed then they! ~LORD BYRON, The Giaour | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Tears of blood, on a china doll?s face, Eyes that Glitter and gleam, A heart that starts when the sun goes down, A life that robs to live. A life where pain and suffering cannot touch you. Except with fingers of ice, upon your heart. Until, not yet, the sun goes down Upon a life so dark, That thrown upon a burning tyre, The soul cannot but laugh, Floating up or floating down, The spirit gives no damn. At last it?s free of it?s earthly hell, That it?s haunted for so long. Only to be consumed by the fires of Hell, Where, justly or not, it belongs. ~Leslie Digdon (me) copyright 1996 | This is one of my favorite Boris Vallejo pics. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Another by the amazing Mr. Vallejo |
Walking on a road That is not there Trusting hands to catch you That are not there Trusting the Ghost of a chance That somehow, someone cares. ~Leslie Digdon copywrite 1996 My obsessions include; Vampires (obviously), The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Art by Boris Vallejo, and Xanth. If you are interested in any of these, or have any feedback on my site please feel free to contact me at the address below. see hands that will reach for eternity. Let not her story go untold, Though Life is drained and flesh grown cold. Leave her to her peace at last, That she, for once, may join the mass That float together, neither here nor there. Lost together, no longer in fear Of Death and dying, For all has come. To leave them here between Earth and Sun. A mass unseen, a mass unheard Growing with each passing word. Not the Good, and not the Evil, Just the Earth?s untimely people. they know not what their search may find Or what it?s found before. For it?s Love they seek, It?s love they?ve lost, And it, exists no more. ~Leslie Digdon copywrite 1997 Just a brief note on the legal side of things, all my poetry on this page is copywrited and I ask that it not be used or copied without my name attached.
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