Tormented souls turned against their will;
The lust for blood always on their mind.
Where once a family they might then had;
But now they’re forced to walk alone;
For too many gathered could cause a scene;
And they’d fight each other to win that zone.
Perhaps a bride might make life better?
But would He impart his will on her, his fate?
To the constant pangs of hunger and thirst;
To be thought of in fear and hate.
They call Him monster; the Vampire of old;
A killer of children; a creature of the night.
No-one sees how tormented He is.
As he tries to dull his instincts with all of his might.