Bloodguilt
I
sign my life's vow in my own blood
Those who would be lords --
mere minions of death,
my foes.
The startled glance of
recognition, loathing, fear
has become the thing I most
fear.
Still I persist.
Who else to take up this sword?
Who
else, this life?
The burden, the guilt, mine alone to bear
laid
on me in blood.
Blood of my sire.
Tides, oceans of blood
I've spilt
protecting the flow-tide of humankind's
from my
father's people
No -- my people.
It is within me, this
cursed blood.
I ignore its demands, but still...
The thirst is
in me to give in, submit
Become one who... No! I will not
kill!
At least not that way
though they hate me so.
These
humans' lives so brief, so bright.
I can count on a single hand
those who
peered boldly into my soul's night --
Leila,
Charlotte, Doris, Dan
Polk and others --
Strange. That's more
than one hand.
Perhaps, there is a ray of hope still;
the
reason I hunt valid remains,
to protect this fleeting, fragile,
precious light
from the darkness that would
devour it whole.