So, uh, yeah... I guess this sort of thing happens when you're planning vampire related stuff for an RPG setting whilst feeling a little lonely... Not perhaps meant to be taken entirely literally. Perhaps... :-p
For darkest nights and stormy days
are best left the matters of spirit, I say
but of course the same is equally true
For does not that spark of lust
burn brightest in the dark of night
within each Man-child
so that we have died, many times over
thrust upon that deadly pyre?
They dance, the Children of Darkness
they dance around that pyre
calling out to me
and I long to dance with them
make one the spirit and the flesh.
Should I bare fangs at the sun
snarl and curse the bright, cruel world?
Or should I howl for the beauty of night
and the alabaster curves of flesh?
For surely the two go hand in hand
no night without moon
whether hidden or seen
paraded in that darksome cabaret
jewel of the Night Lord's harem.
Yet she is cold
and I long for warmth
a laying of hands
a panting breath.
What can it feel like
the beating of a heart
beneath the soft touch of a palm?
And from touch to grip
the dance begins
the tearing of cloth
the baring of skin.
How does that heart beat now
pressed against the cold stone wall
between the rock and the hard... place?
Answered then, the call of flesh
the siren song of blood.
Why should not a little of that warmth
If only for a fleeting moment...
But into the night I slink away
alone in the dark.
Even if my heart could beat
who would be there to hear its call?