The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Drunken Ravings
of a Demented Madman
-Shadowlore
03:29 Mar 27 2006
Times Read: 570




As I sit here, thinking and dreaming,

My courage found on a barroom floor,

I wonder at what we are, I speculate as to our nature.



I find more flaws by the second.

Glorious, beautiful flaws.

Be it anger, or hate, or ill-treated love.



We all have something we lack, and we are the better for it.

We all have something we want, and we are the deeper for it.

There is no individuality or depth to the content.



Give me yearning, give me desire

Give me wanting, give me need.

If I have them not I am an empty shell, and my fires are spent.



I NEED to WANT

I WANT for NEED,

I fear the day when I have neither.



Rip me, Shred me, Tear me apart,

Open my soul and expose it to all that this world has to offer,

Rend me defenseless, so that I may want for more.



All things elusive make us rely on our passion,

All of our passion makes life worth living,

Spare me my passion, grant me new desires, keep me from being content



For in contentment lies my death....

The Music Man
-Shadowlore
03:28 Mar 27 2006
Times Read: 571

Prison of glass, walls of air. I sit in this lonely room and dream of who I am...



There's a song in my heart. It is a song of dispair, pain, and fear.

Its brooding voice snakes its way into my brain,

Its creeping tendrils of blackened hope wrap themselves around me,

Pulling me in, squeezing me tightly, constricting me.

A serpent and its prey.



The music welling from some invisible darkened depths,

Pooling over, filling my organs with its seething mass.

Its foul pitch scratces and tears its way into my lungs, pressing them outward,

Stretching them to their greatest volume.



They expand in rolling waves of insidious anger...



and then... reaching their full potential, release!

The song rolls forth,

Burning my throat in a volley of words,

Scorching my nostrils.



The fetid odor of my decaying sound pours from me,

like a cloud of anguish, it reaches out,

grasping and straining against the faces and bodies in the crowd.

Its smothering darkness working its way into the hearts and the souls of their young, terrified minds



Reaching with my voice, this streaming power of song and emotion.

I push deeper inside them, gripping tightly and

Dragging the anger from them in screaming torrents of joyous agony.

They know me now.



My pain, my anger, my dispair.

They know me and in knowing me,

In knowing my fury of song, they know themselves.

Inside they see it, this astral tether between all our lives.



This silver web of glimmering strands that moves through a world

beyond our physical selves.

We are as different as they come, and yet we are bound by a common thread.

The hatred we feel for the world we were born into.



Our anger unites us.

I rouse it with my song, add to it my own.

A chorus of pain.

A chorus of pain



Pain that is pleasure,

Pain that is joy,

A love that is born from hate.

This conflaguration of dark thoughts and desires.



Forming a gorgeous pillar of black anger,

this beautiful construct of raw and unsheathed emotion.

Building to a spiraling climax,

Jarring bone and blood and sinew to an orgasmic apex



Droping off sharply as I bring my voice to a grinding halt.

As I look out over the crowd, I see them.

Laughing eyes, crying smiles, leanign on one another for support.

I feel the tendrils of my song wrapped around their souls.

Darkness
Or: Why do you War Black All the Time
-Shadowlore
03:27 Mar 27 2006
Times Read: 573

Darkness - or Why do you wear black all the time? - By Shadowlore





I stare at the wall of this ill lit room, watching the shadows flicker and fade.

It seems even the smallest light must have a shadow. I remember once, when I was younger, someone saying to me, "There is nothing to be afraid of in the darkness, without the shadows the world has no depth". I didn't think on it much at the time. In retrospect, however, it rings true. With no darkness to balance the light, the greatest of sculptures would seem a blank surface of marble, for how does one carve an image without using the variation of light and darkness to show the depths of a groove? Without darkness the most impressive works would seem flat and lifeless, two-dimensional in aspect.



Yet, there is no evil in these shadows, only emotion. At first, longing to see what is not seen, to know what is not known. Then, frustration, "why will it not reveal itself?" And then, anger, hate, and eventually fear. For it remains unknown, and humans, being as humans are, will despise that which they cannot explain.



This is my mind, my shadowy realm, built to secure and insulate me. I surround myself in this darkness, this ill lit room, this ill lit soul, it is here that the world cannot touch me. It is the light which defines our form, but it is the darkness that gives it life. I would not have my form defined, but would have a greater store of life. So, the shadows are where I walk, and the shadows are where I shall remain. My dark clothes, my black smile, my coal-darkened eyes. They are your shadow. I am your opposite, your anathema. I am a reflection of that dark soul you have banished with your light. It is me that defines how brightly you shine. You cannot exist without me....

The Laughing Shadow:
An Exercise in Free Thought
- Shadowlore
03:26 Mar 27 2006
Times Read: 574

am the comic relief. At the party, I am the one who makes you laugh and smile. A joke a minute. The life of the party. It is interesting being me, I'll give it that. Who would think being the center of attention would be so lonely.



The strange thing is, My extroversion in group gatherings is a manifestation of my shyness. I grew up in a small town, with few friends, and even fewer people I could rely on. I was in trouble a lot in school and was generally a social pariah for most of my youth. This instilled a lot of reservations about myself personally. I wouldn't call it a self esteem issue, exactly. That would indicate that I do not like myself. This is not the case. I like who I am and what I stand for. Instead, I would refer to it as an awareness of the lack of social acceptance and understanding. I have always known that I wasn't in the wrong for being myself.



Still, it has a profound effect on how one interacts with society.



So, I'm at the party, and I'm keeping people entertained. The odd thing is, when you're in that role, people don't really notice you. They notice the reaction of the other people in the room. "She has a nice smile" and "What the fuck is he wearing?"... Hidden in plain view.



It seems like this has always been the case in the social circles I travel in. Everyone's friend, nobody's confidant. I guess I have always be well liked in the general sense. At least by the people I have chosen to spend my time with. Still, I have always been the fringe, the chameleon, the outsider.



When I was young, I did very well with women. I did not worry about whether or not they were interested in me, if I was interested, I said something, and hopefully the reaction was what I wanted. I am no longer any good at this, it appears.



I met my former wife in a strange way: We both used to post to the same message board. At the time, I owned a retail storefront that sold knives and swords as well as renaissance garb and my leatherwork. She had dreams of becoming a clothing designer. So, we started talking about the possibility of putting some of her designs in my shop. She was dating someone at the time and I had just gotten out of a bad relationship with my son's mother. Neither of us had any interest in dating the other. It was merely two people with circumstances that were mutually beneficial. We discussed things online at first, then began asking questions about one another. Evenutally, her relationship fell apart. After a period of emailing back and forth, we finally spoke on the phone. When her relationship ended. I flew to St. Louis to see her. The rest is a story I will tell at another time.



Suffice it to say, I was with her every hour of every day in which we were not at work for four years. I loved my wife. I love her still. Truth is, she is a beautiful and wonderful woman, and I hope that the path that she has taken leads to her happiness. Things do not always work out how you plan them.



Regardless, after we split, I then began dating someone else. I was with her for roughly a year until our relationship ended a few months ago. In other words, I have not been involved in the dating scene for at least five years.



My triumphant return has been anything but. I have discovered that while I still have good social interaction skills with male friends, and group settings. I am bulloxed when it comes to women. Being married to a woman with a jealous streak seems to have dessicated that particular skillset.



I still have a knack for making friends with women, and I do not mean to depreciate the value of that. All of the women I have made friends with are deserving of my friendship (they know who they are) but still, it would be nice to feel like I was truly being seen again.



I’ve fallen into a new social circle now, as I have only been in this city for a year. They are fun people. It is a microcosm of all of the other circles I have been a part of in my life. Some are shallow, but still fun. Some are filled with hidden depths. I appreciate that I am a part of their group. The only problem is, they have all known each other for years. They have their favorites and their enemies within the culture. They know about ex-boyfriends and girlfriends. They know about each other’s hang-ups. They know about each other’s desires. They have dated one another. They have fought one another.







And here is me. Johnny-come-lately. None of the people know me, and it seems they are either reluctant or not interested in getting to. I don’t know. Maybe eventually that will change. The people that attended my birthday/new year’s party all seemed very open. Thanks Jeremy, I owe you one.







I suppose this is enough rambling for now. This isn’t intended to be a cohesive piece of work. Maybe more of a catharsis than anything else. Still, I am posting it. I will come back and read this in a few months and see how things stack up.

Ever After
-Shadowlore
03:25 Mar 27 2006
Times Read: 575

Where is my "Ever After"

My "Love forevermore"

My "this is how it ought to be"

My gold on distant shores



Where is my "when I first met her"

My "she was meant for me"

My "awestruck" and my "earthquake"

My "what a sight to see"



Where is my lovely "summer's day"

My Sun to fill the East

My silver lining on this cloud

My beauty for this beast.



Where is my "one and only"

My lovely "Princess Bride"

My Angel sent from heaven

My partner at my side.



She lies atop the mountains

Or perhaps across the sea

But this I know for certain

She lies away from me

Stapled Back Together
-Shadowlore
03:24 Mar 27 2006
Times Read: 576

A cloth doll's arm hangs from torn seams

Swinging in an autumn wind.

Threadbare clothes hang from it's ragged frame

their stitches pop and rend.



Like a flag in a warzone, wracked by the air

Forgotten as the soldiers play

A flooded field where a house once stood

after nature's had its day.



A star post-nova, my embers spent

Unseen in an empty sky

I'm left alone in a broken void

To sit and wonder why

Broken Toys
-Shadowlore
03:24 Mar 27 2006
Times Read: 577

Broken Toys - Shadowlore





A broken toy lies in a forgotten corner.

its stitches torn, its buttons fallen away.

Someone loved it once, when it was new.

Carrying it from room to room,

Never letting it out of their sight.



Now it lies alone, untouched by playful hands

lost in a sea of other broken toys

Waiting for the day it will be held again

sleeping with its only friends

the spiders and their webs to keep it company



Where is the laughter of children

What happened to the imaginary games

Once the world was what it should have been

but the leaves have fallen from the trees

and the kids have all wandered away



A broken toy lies forgotten in a corner.

No hand can make it whole again

there will be no auctions for its memory

No bidders to place it on a pedestal

it is a forgotten relic of a bygone day.



Why is the broken toy still in the corner

for what reason is it not discarded

Tossed into a refuse bin, known for what it is

It serves only to collect dust and debris

and fill a space that some unbroken toy could rest



Just throw the toy away, its no good anymore

drop it into the bin, do not place it with care

It is what it is, junk and nothing more

The fun it brought is long since past

There are new toys to play with, this one is lost.