she turned to their side
but choice not her own
her heart will not bleed
but flood so unknown
the depth of the fangs
the warmth of her blood
the depth of her pain
to drain them and flood
her eyes they're so cold
her dream to the night
the rain floods like death
to her she takes flight
the tree to the wood
the stake to the hand
her paint that she feels
despair never ends
she takes it the stake
the sharp pointed stake
she finished it then
death was no mistake
Mi sis wrote this! Poetry runs in the family... U'll never see any of my peoms MAWHAHAHAHA!