The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Blind lamech forged the sword of Caine,

Not long before he killed him,

As Lilith ate his neonates.



The roots of my clan are steeped in myth,

We are a modern clan of warrior knights,

Soldiers of the dark night.

We define the delectable vitae,

We absorb the Dark Father's pain,

In the ritual of the Sabbat's gain,

In an orgy of fire and blood,

For the cause and religion that binds us.

We have been here for many millenia,

Although you may not have heard of us,

We walk among you in your world,

At night when the darkness unfurls,

We stalk your streets with prowess,

Hypnotise you with our intellect,

We infiltrate your self respect.

We seduce you with scarlet tears,

That fall from dark, steely eyes.

You take pity on the children of the night.



Follow me and I'll teach you more,

Show you the ways of the urban predator,

And intruduce you to our bond of blood.

I can teach you how to fly with the wind,

And introduce you to my kin,

If you will only let me break your skin.

Disregard the ways of the mortals,

Their Gods are unattainable.

Let me introduce you to the Dark Father,

He can make you live forever.

Fly with me to the nest of my clan,

And love me for what I am,

Offer yourself, give into your lust,

And I shall make you one of us.

I will teach you the ways of Lilith,

And we can feast on the neonates of humans,

Sacrificed to the Sword of Caine,

Together we can absorb his pain,

And gain his strength to hunt again,

To keep alive Lamech's name.



Feel my heartbeat within your soul,

Feel my passion, warm and bold,

Feel my lustful breath upon your neck,

Then join me in the dark.

Hush now child, and go to sleep,

May your dreams be sublime and deep,

You will feel refreshed and much inspired,

By the immortality of the vampire.

I welcome you, my luscious bride,

To the forever world of the vampire's creed,

Where I shall allay all of your fears,

There will be no more scarlet tears.



borloff

COMMENTS

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NOKTURNL
17:00 Dec 22 2019

Nice

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POST COMMENT

Was that real?

What I just saw there, was it real?

Or am I just going crazy?

I do not drink and I don't do drugs.

But I don't know what that was,

It all seems so hazy...

Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me,

Making me see things that just can't be,

Things of a supernatural nature.

But it seemed so real, for sure.

I'm wondering if I should chace it,

Investigate it?

But then, it was so hideous,

It frightens me just to think about it.

Maybe I should flee the scene,

Before it comes back to get me?

But then, maybe it's timid,

For it seems to have already fled.

How would be best to describe it?

Ugly! That'll do for a start.

It was scaley, stood erect,

Like a reptilian meerkat.

But there all similarity ends.

It had a tail of sorts,

Stubby and short.

It had clawed or taloned hands,

Good for ripping prey, I suppose.

It had short, razor sharp teeth,

And a tongue that looked forked.

It just stood there in the shadows,

Lit only by the cutting edge of the streetlight's beam.

I probably wouldn't even have noticed,

Had it not growled at me.

It's face looked almost human,

It's eyes were wild and bloodshot,

It snarled as it seen me coming,

With a sneer full of spit and snot.

For a few precious seconds, I was rooted to the spot,

Unable to move through fear.

Then suddenly, it dropped the rats it was eating,

Before it quickly disappeared,

Like a shadow in the darkest cavern,

Leaving me shaking,

And wondering.

I never thought I'd ever see a real chupacabras,-

Well never face to face.

I'm not even sure that's what it really was,

But I have no other explanation.

It was certainly a strange beastly creation!



borloff

1.The Subject



He was a royalist, loyal to the King,

By the name of Philip Aylesford,

He fought Crmwell's parliamentarians,

During the English civil war.

He married the beautiful Dorothea,

Biding at Diddington Manor,

But her love for him did grow stale,

And soon lost all it's glamour.

He mat a raven headed gypsy girl,

Whose dark eyes stole his heart,

He hid her in the gatehouse,

But she was caught and accused of witchcraft.

Fearing for his own reputation,

He did not come to her aid,

She was unfairly found to be guilty,

And unduly burned at the stake.

Overcome with remorsful madness,

He'd pace the battlements of his manor,

With a heart full of grief and sadness,

He lept to his death with his loss of honour.



2.The Experiment



In the early part of the seventies decade,

Toronto Society of Psychical Research,

Came up with the idea of an experiment,

To make a purely fictional ghost manifest.

They started off their conjuring,

With an invented biography and sketch,

The group would gather around the table,

For several months, without success.



3.The Happenings



Then suddenly there came a knock,

In answer to a question,

More questions asked, distinct knocks heard,

But stilol the group were skeptic.

Could these events be group related?

Was one of them, in jest,

Cheating the experiment,

To undermine their quest?

They wondered if this could be Philip,

And in answer to their queries,

The table moved teasingly,

As if to verify their theories.

As the weeks and months passed by,

They engaged in conversation,

With the spirit of Philip Aylesford,-

A ghost of their own creation.

The table danced as the light played tricks,

Along with other strange phenomena,

The experiment was truly groundbreaking,

With the ghost, made in Canada.



4.The Summary



So where did Philip truly come from?

Was the human mind the cause?

A collective form of telekinesis?

Or was Philip truly a ghost?

Whichever way your mind may think,

Reality or illusion,

I'll keep my open minded skepticism,

And leave you to your own conclusion.



borloff

I will triumph! I will succed!

I will sow my demon seed!

I will tempt your mortal desire,

I will fill your heart with lustful fire!

I shall tempt away your morals

And have you rest upon your laurels!

I wil fill your mind with vanity,

And will tamper with your sanity!

In the end, you will desire me!



You will fall for my instigation,

You will give in to my temptation!

You will forsake your Lord above,

As I steal you from your true love!

I shall hold you in my grip, a prisoner,

I will hold you in my grip forever,

Never more shall your will be free,

As I take all your dreams away!

In the end, you will desire me!



I will render you a loveless whore,

All decency thrown out the door,

As you surrender all your true emotions.

You will give me all of your devotion!

I shall take away your free will,

In exchange for cheap thrills!

You shall give to me your dignity,

I, Asmodeus, shall take it willingly!

In the end, you will desire me!



borloff

You play Jekyll and I'll play Hyde,

You take the poison and I'll arrive,

All of your fears, I will erase,

I will channel your anger into rage,

And use it to defeat your enimies.

Help you realise your nightmarish dreams.

I can bring them on if you wish,

I can help you make the switch.



I love your detachment from reality,

It always seems to please me,

So let me be the alter you worship,

It boosts both our ego-trips.

You need my personality,

To strengthen your reality,

And bolster your defensive state,

To hide your darkest secrets.



You may think you control the game,

But do you remember me when I'm gone?

You only talk to me when I'm present,

In your hypnotic state of disassociation,

The reality over which you have no control,

When I'm in charge of your mind and soul,

My heart beats stronger than yours,

I can face pain much better than you.



I am now in full control of your life,

I give my orders from inside your mind,

Sending dark impulses through your brain,

Pumping evil through your veins,

To do things you wouldn't normally consider.

I am your paranoid schizophrenia,

I control your true will,

I'm the reason why you kill.



I am your inner voice and strength,

I am your demon of torment,

I am your champion of misery.

I can be your companion or your adversary.

Bear with me and you'll be satisfied,

Fight me and I will destroy your mind.

I am the reason for the things you do,

But most of all, I am you!



borloff

COMMENTS

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Angelus
14:57 May 14 2012

this is excellent.

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POST COMMENT

Wasted time, living your life in the present,

The past seems so very, very far away,

Got no plans, hopes or schemes for the future,

Life's too short, let's party, let's live for today.



All is fine for a while, life is a breeze,

Everything's hunky dory, in fact it's a gas,

Got no cares for the world, let it keep spinning,

All it's troubles and worries can be shoved up it's ass.



And you fail to realise that you're getting older,

Like everything else in this jumbled up planet of ours,

Until one day you see how you've aged in the mirror,

And you think, 'Oh shit, where did it all turn to dust?'



The world keeps spinning and time seems to be moving faster,

Each day taking you closer to the grave,

And you start to realise you need to make changes,

Or before too long there'll be nothing worthwhile left to save.



So you start making plans, but you carry on living as before,

The habit of a lifetime is far too embeded to change it,

Then it hits like a brick when you realise you're too old,

And suddenly you're the old codger you used to laugh at.



Where did it go? Was it worth it? Will you be remembered?

That's something we'll never know until we die,

But what if Lennon was right and there's nothing up there?

No pain, no fear, no suffering................only sky!



borloff

A Drunkard's Dream



"Come taste the wine of women's wisdom,"

Queen Mab did say unto me,

As entered into her fairy chamber,

As drunk as drunk can be.

Now maybe it was the drink that talked,

Or maybe it was love,

But I held her hand whilst on one knee,

And asked to be betrothed.



"Away, away, foolish young man.

"You are not of my world.

"I cannot vow to take your hand,

"For that would steal your soul."

"Alas! Alas! My soul is black,

"For the Devil made a pact!" said I,

"I must beseech, oh Fairy Queen,

"You free me from his lies!"



"Pray that you tell me, young man,

"How did this come to be?" she asked,

I hung my head and did admit,

"My foolishness did steer my path,

"In state of drunken debauchery,

"I did sell my soul for mead,

"And the only way to break the spell,

"Is to marry me a fairy maid."



"I am no maid," she laughed out loud,

"I am the Fairy Queen of Mabon.

"'Tis not for me to break this spell.

"Nor can I offer a maiden.

"Your fate is sealed within the curse,

"And I cannot offer comfort.

"For no righteous maiden of Fairy virtue

"Could take the hand of a drunkard!"



Just then a witch upon a broom,

Did cackle like a crow,

"Climb aboard, foolish young man,

"I am her to fly you home!"

Then I did look upon the Queen,

And plead through eyes of dread and fear,

"Must I go," I asked of her,

"When I'd rather to stay here?"



She said, "You must, you can't stay here,

"This is not your domain!"

And with that said, the skies turned black

And the heavens broke with rain,

I screamed my terror at the storm

As it carted me away,

I was hurled on a howling wind,

As the old crone laughed her bray!



I awoke then to the sound of silence,

In the stillness of my room,

The cold sweat made me realise,

It was just another drunken dream.

Then I reached out, with shaking hand,

To drink, once more, the mead,

When once again I read the words,

"YOUR SOUL BELONGS TO ME!!"



borloff

You Cannot Sleep Here



Leave me in the tranquility of my darkness,

Enter not, ne'er by voice nor shadow,

Begone! Oh disobedient ghost,

Intrude, no more, your cold upon my marrow!



I cannot sleep with your prescence here,

You so disturb me with your eerie whispers,

Hush now. Be silent! Nocturnal pest!

Retreat to the catacombs of your own nightmares!



Cease this malevolent loitering,

There is no purpose to your ill intent,

Spite me, no more, and I shall pray for you,

That your spirit may find it's contentment.



Yet still you continue to harass me,

I really must applaud your perseverance,

But spare me, you tedious, uninvited guest.

I grow weary of your continuous interference!



Do not intrude here, this is not your domain,

Go back to the cemetery where you belong.

Go back to the place where your bones lay at rest.

You cannot sleep here. This is my mausoleum!



borloff

She came on to me in the dead of night,

Like a ghost, she came out of nowhere,

I was mesmerised by her hypnotic eyes,

While my mind was saying, don't go there,

But I couldn't break the erotic spell,

She cast in my direction,

I looked all around, but could not find help,

It was left to my own discretion,

To make my choice and take my chance,

And give in to my desires,

And join in her hypnotic dance,

And become as one with the vampire.



And we danced until my heart was content,

Beneath the stars, we danced through the night,

The erotic dance of a lover's lament,

So haunting and spiritual, it set my soul alight.

Her beauty cast it's shadow upon me,

As it soft and gently touched my skin,

And filled me with a longing to concede,

My body and my soul to the wind.

The wind on which she travelled with ease,

Would take her to where her heart desired,

And tonight her heart desired me,

And I became as one with the vampire.



Locked in her wonderous spell of seduction,

I dared not run, I could not flee,

I watched the disappearance of my own reflection,

As she drank my blood and fed off me.

My horror soon gave way to the realisation,

Of the immortality bestowed on me,

And the wonderously erotic sensation,

Known only to the vampire's creed.

I owe it all to this huntress of the night,

This lady known only as Carmilla,

The one who granted me eternal life,

And made me as one with the vampire.



borloff

It was Carmilla who introduced us,

She brought the virgin maiden to my lair,

She was easy prey to my seduction,

It did not take me long to allay her fears.

I held her in my arms and gently stroked her neck,

Feeling the precious blood pumping through the vein,

A crimson nectar from which I would soon feed,

I licked my lips at the thought of my gain.

I charmed her as we danced through the night,

Our shadows flickering by the light of the fire,

I kissed her virgin neck, my neck to bite,

To make her as one with the vampire.



She quivered nervously in my arms,

As her fears gave way to excitement,

I felt her heart beat, rhythmically, next to mine,

As she gave in, fully, to her predicament.

I knew then that it was time to feed,

I bent my head forward to taste her flesh,

She tasted sweet, as I bared my teeth,

And with them, pierced her neck.

With a moan of ecstasy she gave herself to me,

Offering her body with a wanton desire,

I savored a moment of powerful lust,

As I made her as one with the vampire.



I lay her on the floor to die,

To leave her mortal body behind,

To be reborn into the realm of the immortals,

To be welcomed into the pleasures of the night.

A look of wonder on her ashen face,

Told me she knew what I had done,

And the smile of thanks that she then gave me,

Said she was elated by what she had become.

She was my first, and she was precious,

This beautiful Lady Eleanor,

And her loyalty is now mine to treasure forever,

For ’tis I who made her as one with the vampire!



borloff

Ah, the Summer Lady hibernates

As Jack Frost has his wicked way,

He lowers her temperature with his sleaze,

Digests her gown of golden leaves,

To crush them by his icy hand,

And cover, white, the Motherland.



As migration and wander lust,

Flee the march of frosty crust,

She digs in to hold her ground,

To the fanfare of the robins sound,

Her holly, blossoms in denial

To old Jack's winter burial.



With wind and rain and snow and ice,

Jack throws himself into the fight,

Saluted by the thundering drum

And bugle call of winter storm,

He holds not back, from the attack,

That lays his white coat deep and thick.



As shadows cast his longest night,

Retaliation is his plight,

The Lady's staunch defiance holds,

To slowly melt his winter cold,

A snowdrop bursts to bloom his splendor,

A rally call to the defenders.



As old Jack's forced into retreat,

His snow and ice rearguard does creep,

To slither stealthily with the thaw,

And encamp upon the moutain top.

A rainbow hails the golden sun,-

The Summer Lady's fight is won!



borloff

Get off your fucking high-horse and see the world as it is,

Rather than as you'd like it to be,

Talk to the people instead of contributing to the mess,

Open your fucking eyes and see.

The glory that you crave is just a hippy culture dream,

You forget they were all stoned when they dreamed,

Spellbound in the sanctuary of narcotic simulation,

You only bring the nightmare out in me.



I'm screaming in petitions, but you never heed my words,

Ignorance is bliss to you, it seems,

The days of revolution have long since become absurd,

To you anyways, in your hippy dream,

But anger soars in your suburbs, it's ugly head is rearing,

You can't fool the wise with propaganda,

The seers and the prophets are spitting words of seething,

You can't fool me with your happy ever after.



The future is damned. And there is nothing you can do,

Your trials and tribulations have all failed,

Your greed prepares your Babylon, crumble does your empire,

Your pillars wash away with your grail.

Your paper holds no value, your militant might holds no oil,

And still you try to sell our souls, akimbo,

The revolution's here, you prick, I bet you wish you'd listened to us now,

Seething in your home made cesspit, I bet you wish you'd never said no!



borloff

I am no lower than he who's kingly majesty

Lays claim upon the throne of the Lord,

Bedecked in gold and precious stones.

Nor do I wield a fiery sword.

And yet, I am stronger than he,

For I am forged of the finest steel,

Fired by a passion of solitude.

I ne'er kneel, kow-tow nor yield

To his daring command.

He may feel secure in his own vanity,

Romance his own ego in the mirror.

But his stance holds no priority over me!



I bear the scars of battles fought,

Won, lost, the stalemate of compromise,

The outcome matters not,

For there is no glory in an iron fist, no prize

To the victorious, only a darkened heart.

The ember of a spent flame.

A melted wick.

So brittle is the shame

Of greedy genocide, uncompromising,

In it's dog eat dog agenda.

He may sit kingly in his throne,

But I shall never cede nor surrender!



A flame burns eternal in my heart,

I am stoic in my solitude,

I bear no grudges, nor harbour any anger,

But have the gall to defend my attitude.

My opinion is mine alone,

And I shall carry it as my burden if need be.

He has no right to silence my thoughts,

Nor to propagate his empathy.

I do not need the propaganda

Of regal, ceremonial cavalcades

To emphasise my pride.

My heart is always openly displayed!



borloff

Unknown Soldier



I draw a breath of winter air,

It fills my lungs with frosty cold,

I look down at the gravestone, where,

The unknown soldier lies alone,

He fell in a foriegn field,

In a land so far from home,

A single poppy marks the grave,

Of the hero with no name.



I say some words of silent prayer,

In honour of his sacrifice,

He gave his life to keep us free,

From tyranny and genocide,

Like many other fallen heroes,

He should never be forgotten,

His sacrifice won't go unsung,

Even though he is unknown.



So spare a thought to all our heroes,

Who still fight for our freedom,

Let no-one mock their bravery,

Let no-one mock their reason.

For though they fight in foriegn lands,

They fight the home front too,

These unknown troops in uniform,

They fight for me and you.



They may not be your sons or daughters,

But they have families just like you,

So spare a thought for those families,

Who await the dreadful news,

Another fight, another carnage,

Another tear will fall.

An unknown soldier in an unmarked grave,

Serves to remind us all.



LEST WE FORGET!



borloff

A Shadow Tugs



A shadow tugs at the remnants of a memory,

A raindrop splatters it's pattern of uncertainty,

A pilgrim sets off along the promenade of misery,

And I light my last cigarette to inhale it's impurities.



A ceremony lingers in a cloud of obscurity,

The details forgotten, yet resilient in mystery,

The whisky haze warps it's reminisce from yesterday,

In ghostly recollections that echo and rocochet.



A presence haunts me in the casual interlude,

Roaring it's silence in maddening servitude,

And the distance between us becomes sickeningly close,

In the too familiar shudder that creeps through my bones.



The screech of your fingernails screams from my mirror,

The snarl of your anger torments me still further,

My spirit is cowering from the melancholy gloom,

As you kiss my broken heart to leave your venom in the wound.



Roaming paranoia stealthily encroaches,

Intruding on my sanity as the dark veil approaches,

To shroud me in it's cackling, scornful distribution,

It mocks me with a sorrow to which there is no solution.



The pilgrim says a prayer by the shrine that is my tomb,

I may not be there yet, but I will be there soon,

For the tourniquet tightness of the rope around my neck,

Can't stop my heart bleeding from the poison you inject.



So sing me a psalm and raise a toast of goodbye,

Take pride in your callous heart while watching me die,

Shed a tear if you want to and pretend that you grieve,

While a shadow tugs the remnants of a memory of me!



borloff