The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Dear Puppet Master
22:38 Jul 22 2009
Times Read: 565


Dear to the puppet master,

I hope he’ve learned

My hands twitch

My body trembles

Movements done not by myself



I move with unparalleled grace

A talent not all my own

The invisible strings, they bind me



Move me with his words

Dominate me with his thoughts

Manipulating my strings



Pull my strings as he pulls mine,

Moving lips, our hearts entwine,

Breathing faster, lungs are deep,

Faster still, for love won’t keep



He'll continue to dress me in fancy laces,

He'll control my movements,

and dominate my soul.



I'm his precious little dolly,

how I loathe the seven sins so

He makes me preform impossible beautiful arches,

exanimate I've become,

his seed of the forbidden fruit.



I'm his little doll.

I will do what he commands,

If he pulls the strings above me,

I can't fight against his hand.

Without guilt, he's free to treat me

As I wish I could treat him.



The puppet master holds me close, he speaks softly,

"My baby doll... You belong to me..."

My Mood of Today
23:36 Jul 14 2009
Times Read: 592


Anyone offended by prolonged descriptions of gore, carnage, sexual acts and other lewd and disgusting themes should leave now because this poem is nothing but depravity. Besides, if that kind of thing really bothers you so much, you're not welcome around here anyway.

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What was it the zombie had said? Every time you think of pleasure, you’ll think of me. The corpse made good on his threat. Sometimes I just can't help but feel as if the ripping of my skin is a sensation of lust between me and my soul. As I do it I feel is if my body is pulsating with electric charges of ecstasy. My whole body feels at one with my mind. Why I enjoy this. An intimate suggestion. Morbid. Satanic. Whispering. A necro lover unsuspected. Because no matter what we were doing, I thought of pleasure. When he fed upon me, I watched his long fingers and thought how skillfully they feathered along my ribcage, breaking the bones to get my organic moisture. Why must this passion consume me? When he talked to me, I watched his glorious lips and remembered how they felt as they moved against my corruptible imperfect flesh in long, vehement, leisurely, cannibalistic kisses, aches of stimulation of my mutilated genitals. Why must this ecstasy control me? An appetite for the textures of withering flesh. The inhuman thirst for sexual sustenance, starved for liquid passion. When he walked away from me, I watched the firm, concave lovely cadaver and remembered how his cheeks, his strands of muscle tissue wrapped tight around my nails as he thrust in and out then in and out, coagulating my blood with silent repentance. Why do I feel trapped? His flesh is my imagination. His nakedness a dream. Tremulous. Intangible. Applauding the obscene. His seduction is unquenchable. Necrophilia is only the beginning. An immutable inflection, making me a necromantic of implacable deception….Oh, God. He had devoured me with sex.





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Now I've done a whole lots "guts 'n' gore" style writing in the past, probably more than my fair share. This is a very simple concept of my mood today. That's all there is to it really. That doesn't mean I laid off on the carnage, fuck no, but you don't have to be on a vengeful rampage to talk about decapitation and disemboweling. And, I'll be honest with you, this was so much fucking fun to write.....Goddamn, I love depravity....

The Paintings
00:13 Jul 12 2009
Times Read: 617








The sun is setting, filling the sky with brilliant colors.

The reds, purples, oranges, and maroons,

spread and cover my once blue view.



All of the colors represent parts of my life, like

red for my love and anger, orange for my

drive and excitement.

The purples for when I feel mysterious, and

maroon for when I want to stand out.



But all together, it paints a picture, and a pretty at that.

This is how my life is, beautiful and unique, always changing.



Now the sun has set, and the real me can come out.

The blackness is a vale that hides me away,

and the stars, that keep everyone else out.

The Wolf Inside Him
06:13 Jul 08 2009
Times Read: 651






Stop sugar coating his fairy tale.

This is his world, he'll win without fail.

If the wolf wants to live, so be it.

He knows what I want, and it's not all that bad.

He's got more sense than Prince Charming had.

At least his feelings are real.



So take those sickly sweet fairies back home.

Here they'll get eaten by grumpy the gnome.

I'll watch with a smirk on my face.

But I want you to know, I've got light in me too.

Cause even in darkness love can be true.

If you can't see that, believe what you will.

You have no power over me.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since I was a little girl, I was always facinated with the fact that the "wolf" in fairy tales was always used as the bad guy. Growing up, I realised that the wolf was supposed to represent things considerd to be "bad" by many adults aka: men, sex, you know, the things they think little girls aren't supposed to think about. Thusly, Little Red Riding Hood isn't supposed to wonder off the path, and of course the good woodsman full of purity and light comes to slay the wolf. Really, the wolf is a metaphor for the dark desires alot of us don't want to face within ourselves. I found myself thinking of all these things again the other day at my friend's place, where I was running around in costume and she was being herself. Her sister was playing to, and kept going on at me about how the fairy world is supposed to be full of goodness and light and happy fairies, and how Jareth is a bad guy so he's got to die at the end of the story and a prince charming type should be the one you really fall in love with. Bull shit! The fairy world would be nothing without the wolf, you see, because without evil good loses its purpose. Mmm...and I NEVER in my life wanted prince charmings, I was always into the supposed bad guy. Another thing, the wolf isn't really evil. There is always darkness in him, but if you look closely, you can always see the light. There must be a balance, and if fairys don't have a feral, darker side full of danger and mischeif, they become boring sugar frosted cake decorations for five year old birthday parties. In other words, embrace your wolf, because light will always cast shadows.



Yes, by god, yes I LOVE Jareth! Big fan of him!



In this poem, by the way, Jareth is used symbolically as the "wolf" to represent all "wolves".

Sea of Endless Night
18:35 Jul 06 2009
Times Read: 677






Beneath the shadows of the moonlight.

Reminiscing the shadow of her crescent moon.

The shadow from a time long ago of

Innocence lost and passion to be in sight.



With her laced smile which haunts her dreams…

The eyes which hint at secrets untold.

Her palms are open wounds, her Victorian corset tight.

Confessing her feelings to the unseen sea of endless night.



The shadow of herself was beautiful, but no one knew why…

What is her secret?

The melody that hums through her flows a tune.

As she, the shadow dances under the moon.



Is it in her eyes?

The lace sewn into her honey sweet lips?

Can you tell just by looking…

As long as she keeps lace fully smiling…



A laced kiss.

This is the dream, she dreamt, writing her dream on paper.

Her eyes are the shadows of the abyss.

Yet they glowed scarlet red with all the beauty of the unseen sea of endless night of the dead, washing away her dreams.



Hoping her dreams will be the memories that are true.

An angry word will stir up rage, but a gentle word will soothe.

Craving
20:42 Jul 03 2009
Times Read: 704

So endless is the love I am feeling

Then so fearfully, do I awaken

Reaching for you, I am craving

A love so painfully



Desperately I find I will pursue it

Yet sometimes I dream away

So deeply and intensely will I crave you

Yet this violent need makes me afraid



Without you I am lost

Obsequious and beastly, alone and unkind

Unable to find my way in this world

Your passion alone I must find



Only you can make the darkness glow with your smile

Arms wrapped around me to show the bright glow

Images of roses blossom within my deepest stature

For I had fallen in a spell created by your nature

Touch of Darkness
05:28 Jul 02 2009
Times Read: 715








Beyond life. Beyond death. Lies a girl cursed to this realm. Beyond all reality. Lying on her mirror through the crack in the glass. Touching the darkness, the darkness without, and the darkness within. Wondering why? Why was she condemned to this? This satanic world has captured her. Blinded her, she could no longer see. How can this reality be that she’s so forbidden to escape as the same? I speak nothing of desire, lust, nor shame. I did. I live. She dies, cries, hides. She is just a figment of my imagination. She was here. Now she’s gone. She exists no more. You’re probably saying no, it really couldn’t be. Well I know all the pain she felt the girl was me.