The Kiss

by Mkuu Amani

I awoke
If sleep was where I’d been,
from a dream that was indeed my life.

As I spoke
to no-one but myself,
my intention was to hear my breath.

Where I lay
amidst the grass and leaves,
cold, so damp and silent was the night.

Turned my gaze
towards the hoary moon,
memories returning of my death.

“Strange” I thought,
when images recalled
dragged me through the scenes of my demise.

Yet I felt
no heartbeat in my chest
nor the warmth of liquid in my veins.

Never more
A tragic scene than this.
Cursed fortune ~ thus my future lies.

Raven black
and bloodstained was the kiss,
slave to which this soul is bound in chains.

Or similar
the name
of the one who’d lured me to this fate.

Induced this now
imprisoned soul and mind
with so pure a beauty yet so rare.

Every word
SHE spoke I had to hear.
Every smile was meant for me alone.

And her touch
brought warmth without compare.
Hers, a world I deeply yearned to share.

Foolish heart.
No lessons from your past
taught that all is never as it seems?

Now I lie
As a child
Yet to learn the meaning of its birth.

Too late now
to steer the winds of time
from the place that sees me as I am.

But should I not
beget the mourner’s prayer?
Should I not be buried in the earth?

Tales there are,
permit me to indulge,
Witches, werewolves, warlocks and the like.

of ghosts and poltergeist,
spirit-filled dimensions few can see.

I can now
relate this to my plight,
though I speak not of an evil spell.

Left to walk
into eternity.
This the vampire’s kiss has done to me.