I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;
An evil creature in the twilight looping,
Flapped blindly in his face. Beating it off,
He screeched in terror, and straightway something clambered
Heavily from an oak, and dropped, bent double,
To shamble at him zigzag, squat and bestial.
Curious hands desecrated the graves of the undead;
(Antoine Valterre became the Devil’s king.)
Till they found a silver coffin to their dread.
Fascination became terror when they opened the lid,
Eyes fluorescent and fangs sanguine that box had hid.
(A vampire’s thirst is a deadly thing.)–JL
Jeffrey LeBlanc 