Fangs and Angel Wings
She died young,
the pale face of death,
overtook her.
Make up applied brought back,
the faint disguise of life,
as she rots inside.
In death's embrace she is at rest.
But she must pass the test,
of the watches,
on the night of the full moon,
he creeped to her tomb,
opening the lid,
as it screeched,
in protest,
oh what a sight to see her lying their,
with fangs and angel wings...
...profound innocence!
He cursed at the red, thirsty lips of the undead.
For what must be done next...
with swift judgement he severed her head and cloaked her,
in garlic...
as he stabbed the stake through her dark, fading heart,
as her fangs and angel wings,
dissolved into the blackness of her soul.
The death of the undead...
By starstruck13
© 2009 starstruck13
(All rights reserved)
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