*Deep within the caverns he calls his home, Deadend broods. Long has he remained enclosed in his halls, awaiting the day he felt the desire to return to the surface. As he sits in front of his fireplace he reads the journal he has kept these many long months since the Black Raven Inn closed it's doors. His thoughts turn to those he once called family. Something pulls at his consciousness, however...something very familiar. Slowly, he closes the journal and rises. He is ready...it is time. He grabs his favorite smoking jacket and walks to the entrance to his caverns.

Come night,
Come brooding time of dark desires.

Come dark,
Come cool, safe place in which to hide.

Come lightening,
Come streak the sky with natures blaze.

Come thunder,
Come roar your power to the world below.

Come night,
Come give me life once more.

Raven
February 12, 2002

Kiss the blade. . .
Smooth raptured curves
Offer escape and entry
Pulsating, my veins cry out for
Release
A blister upon the
Soft velvet of my heart
Slowly weeps. . .poisoning my mind
With one merciful cut
Could be set free
Merciful
A fist clenched
Around the weak curve of my throat
Thieves the words to make this real
In one joyous stroke
It could be opened
Spilling out as much truth as I am worth

The soft caress
Of blood
On the side of my cheek

At the base of the Bihor mountains in Rumania,
The village of Solta is the place,
Where the Vampire's stirring in the night takes place,
As he impoverishes the town,
In his quest for sanguine ecstacy!

There are no such things or are there?
This morning I awoke in an utmost stupor!
Two puncture holes above my jugular,
He will strike again tonight!
When the moon is full and bright,
Leaving me almost dead and in agony!

By day the children search for garlic buds,
To be placed in the windows,

A collection of poetry and prose submitted to VO in 2002.