I stand here on this hill alone. It’s not like I wanted company, so don’t dare pity me. I came to this spot for a very special occasion. It is dusk, and I have come for the daily funeral. I came to watch the sun die; like it does day after day after day.
It’s something to behold, this grand death, it really is. The bright ball of devine light and warmth slipping away into the bowels of eternity; the last few rays screaming for help; for some power to save it from its fate as it slowly bleeds away from sight.
I marvel at its beauty like so many others, I suppose; but not at all the same way as others. There is a certian beauty in death, isn’t there? There is the real sweetness and where it is to be found; in death, in decay, in lost faith, in the junkie divorced, evicted and kicked to the street; in the inocent girl laying behind the alleyway in a little puddle of rape. THAT is where you find true beauty; in chaos, in turmoil, in the aftermath.
It’s really nothing more than the aftermath of the world on top; the world where everyone likes to pretend that everything is alright and they have nothing to fear. That is what the mortals sould really fear… illusionment. Their false perception of themselves and eachother. These poor people are almost enough to make you feel pity…almost. The little self absorbed minions that walk around on this planet like they actually own it…it makes me fucking sick.
Me?
I prefer the grime. I wander amongst the overlooked, overshadowed hidden world; the real world; where the sweet sounds of anarchy and truth ring through the night. Primal screams fill the air and it sounds just a touch off key, but it doesn’t matter, it’s where I’m home. As the sun finishes its morbid ritual, its last pleas of mercy and staying that are ignored and unanswered glint off of my sunglasses and pale skin and fangs.
Ahh, yes….these poor little souls that ignore the songs of death that ones past so dearly reveared…they think they are immune to the primality. They don’t know of this pure beauty. Oh well, they will learn soon enough. The hunger courses through me again, and bearing long, shimmering canines, I turnand great the night with a smile.
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Umm….I’m pretty new to this, so I’m not really sure how this works, but this thing would go under the topic of ‘Vampire’. I posted this on a message board under the name flying swamp monkey, and someone said I sould post it here. soooo…here ya go! (ps, I made a couple of minor adjustments from what I first posted; it makes more sense this way)