by Nick Gisburne
The crucifix, the sun, and yes, the stake,
For centuries brought chaos to our kind,
But something in the species rose, awake.
A fault is not so simple, now, to find.
We do not fear the crosses you adore.
We travel both in darkness and the day.
A sharpened stick? Annoyance, nothing more.
Come close enough to use it - you will pay.
Decapitate and burn us, if you can.
The evidence is certain: you cannot.
Whatever scheme or strategy you plan,
We’re stronger, fitter, faster, and we’re hot.
The garlic round the windows, and the door?
You may as well throw flowers on the floor.
