I gave her word
he waited in his
dark and incensed lair,
to taste once more
her grave-cold flesh,
and stroke her
fiery hair.
She ran upon the
cobbled streets
as fleet as I could wing,
To find him slumped
and bleeding
in the strong hands
of her king.
“This thing that you
betrayed me with,
you love it more than me?”
“Did I not come at midnight here?
Have you not eyes to see?”
The king had slain the vampire lord
with sword of silver true.
“And now, my unclean, tainted love
I’ll do the same to you.”
She fought him hard but
futilely, ‘til I removed his eyes.
“Good servant, feathered herald.
You have helped me win the prize.”
My head was at a curious tilt
as she breathed out her words.
She struck the blind king fatally,
and fed her carrion birds.
A woman’s heart is fickle,
and its motives e’er unseen.
It will betray a vampire lord
or mortal king,
for Queen.
BlackQuill 