Across the stars, I think of you
Obliterated by the normal view.
Tumatulous minds seering space,
Another strange breed of this human race.
I know you hear my silent plea
It's nothing but what could be.
Save me from this life forlorn
Ideas come to life, reborn.
Only you would take the chance
To drag others from this mortal dance.
Can you guess what it is I seek
As the wanderlust begins to speak.
Don't you see what I have in mind?
Free me from this mortal bind
So that I may walk the night
Not afraid of the sun's harsh light.
Yet even now as I speak
This human life looks so bleak.
The mindless sheep around me cheer
For what? The reasons are unclear.
They seem to take life as one big dare
Yet for the real truths they do not care.
Hear me out, see me through
Mine is no longer the mortal veiw.
Do not think all will change tomorrow
For only one thing will ease this sorrow.
And so I offer you this fair trade:
My blood for yours, night's evil knave.
Written on August 27th, 2000
By Christine Trombley
Saved from Death's ugly grasp
And yet held forever in it's clasp.
Gone from one life, born anew
But now I'm doubting even you.
Although I'm sure of what you say,
That it gets easier day by day.
Now the pain of all things lost
Combined with this bitter cost,
Imortality has come to reap his pay
As I feel the life slip away.
Hold my hand, feel my fear,
The fires of Hell hath come too near.
Your kiss of death brimmed with life
Has saved me from this mortal strife.
Come with me, take me now
To the world and show me how
Teach me this charade held dear
That was once mine to fear.
No longer held fast by mortal glue
For I am forever one of you.
Let me run with you in the night
Shying ever so slightly from the light.
But it is hard, I must confess
To put my mortal fears to rest.
Beliefs that have been held so long
Snuffed out by others even more strong.
But at last I do let go,
For mortal life is now below.
Written on August 27th, 2000
By Christine Trombley
Ah, the feeling in me like fire,
I have let the hunger become desire
For the flesh that sustains the hear
That warms cold hearts into beat.
Fear I no longer know
Except that of those below.
I no longer ask what is premitted
Instead break the hand on which the glove is fitted.
But I must go now to feed
And satisfy that horrible need.
The craving that consumes like fire
But you know this, dear sire.
Among all other immortal beast
We are the breed that takes the least.
For what is life without a soul?
Or dreams to fill that terrible hole?
No, the lifeblood that we take
Seems lesser in the others wake
Of stolen souls and missing dreams
We take so little, or so it seems.
But the greatest joy to me
Is flying like wind through many a tree.
The dark, cold thrill as you chase your prey
Makes up for missing so much of the day.
The harsh birhgt light of the sun
Is most often gone before sleep is done.
So, as I'm sure you already see,
Gone is the sorrow that once was me.
Written on August 27th, 2000
By Christine Trombley
