Hell's Song

I saw Dracula’s fangs quench their thirst in the nape of my neck

While the wood and the stake did plunge cross his dead chest

causing it to pound again; and a pound of flesh was all that was needed

for the freedom of the villagers; their reports of missing maidens and evil

gone too far, spilling like blood, staining the floors and the walls.

A man versus a devil, a Soul against the undead begging for more death.

I took it upon myself to throw into the void one more creature without cause.

The cross which I bore was a bow; tying our fates together like a bloodline.

I stopped at two houses more, in the dead of the night, searching for more men

for the first of the last fights. No more would poison enter into our World

or our people be made a mockery of in the face of deceit in eternal clothing.

The count’s very name had struck fear into all, but mine made hell sing

the Devil cried his last song.

Christopher Baird 2011 ©