Tombs and graves and silent wings and all the terror darkness brings.

RAMBLINGS
By Raymond Mayotte
Copyright © 2003

In the glorious sunlight of the day
most mortals do their work and play.

They toil they sweat to earn their keep,
some sigh, some laugh, some even weep.

But in tombs of stone, or graves of clay,
dark hunters await the end of day.

Only then, when shadows fall,
will the dreaded vampire make his call.

On feather like steps, or silent wings,
he'll embrace the mortal to which he clings.

Only for an instant will there be any fright,
then the blood will be drawn and he'll be off in the night.
End.