by Nick Gisburne
I said to Bella, “Bell,” I said, “I’m bored,
Discouraged by the darkness of the night.
I need a thrill, a wake-me-up reward,
A tiny taste, a little of the light.
The world we rule is dreary, dull, asleep,
With nothing of the spice I long to see.
We skulk. It’s not our greatest trait. We creep.
I’ve had enough. The Sun will set us free.”
But Bella, bless (or curse) her ancient heart,
Reminded me that vampires tend to die
Whenever they are curious, and start
To wander in the pretty, sunlit sky.
“Remember Uncle Yeva.” Yes, we must.
A lovely man. A lovely pile of dust.
