009 ;
I do not like where and how I've been forced to spend my evening. :(
Upon entering I found what I thought was merely a joke, is real. How on Earth would they make a creature such as myself sleep in such a place as this room here? And movements - of all the precise I have made, I allow myself to touch the real. And their voices; they reign within me both high and mighty, sorrowful and scared.
It was only an invitation to remind me of daily sin. That I am truly incapable of being a good embodied soul; that I carry the constant debt of being an uncontrollable blood-loving monster. Wounds I thought could and would heal have once again been re-opened without second thought, and there is a thrust of unimaginative pain that crawls within my pre-dead body.
Even past the fact my roommate is a loveable creature of a close kind to mine cannot even calm me. To be trapped amongst such things as walls stained red and multi-level octave level calls from the ones of my past... Sure I once fed only on the criminally binded; freeing the innocent from their fate of sudden death, but had those bad men and women been innocent to me as well? A counteractive? A double negative? Has there been any right to my vampiric life?
What is wrong and what is right with any of this? And these tears - so alien to me; enough to make me believe I would never feel or taste them again. They color my face in small, thin lined streaks, the same color as the walls that enclose me...
They know how to say just the right things. Only rage will come from a battle such as this.
Upon entering I found what I thought was merely a joke, is real. How on Earth would they make a creature such as myself sleep in such a place as this room here? And movements - of all the precise I have made, I allow myself to touch the real. And their voices; they reign within me both high and mighty, sorrowful and scared.
It was only an invitation to remind me of daily sin. That I am truly incapable of being a good embodied soul; that I carry the constant debt of being an uncontrollable blood-loving monster. Wounds I thought could and would heal have once again been re-opened without second thought, and there is a thrust of unimaginative pain that crawls within my pre-dead body.
Even past the fact my roommate is a loveable creature of a close kind to mine cannot even calm me. To be trapped amongst such things as walls stained red and multi-level octave level calls from the ones of my past... Sure I once fed only on the criminally binded; freeing the innocent from their fate of sudden death, but had those bad men and women been innocent to me as well? A counteractive? A double negative? Has there been any right to my vampiric life?
What is wrong and what is right with any of this? And these tears - so alien to me; enough to make me believe I would never feel or taste them again. They color my face in small, thin lined streaks, the same color as the walls that enclose me...
They know how to say just the right things. Only rage will come from a battle such as this.