Canto V- Fabula

With all great legends

embellishments are  added-

just a grain of truth

to the liar’s sea.

So too the vampire’s story

changed with each telling.

Unable to pray

(For the Lord’s name burned their lips,

bitterness, their souls)

extends to the cross,

holy water, reliquaries.

Chastened by prayers,

victim’s devotions,

legends armed the peasantry.

Aversion to tastes

(strong herbs sour the lifeblood)

added to the arsenal

garlic- a weapon.

The castled hemmed in

by rapid flowing waters

another rumor.

Though they could not drown,

the waves battery was fierce

with no bridge at hand.

So moving waters

became the villager’s friend-

another roadblock

for night’s own hunter.

A stake to their undead heart

could end a vampire-

at least cause him pause.

A brick in mouth to starve him

in his mortal grave.

The bricks broke his teeth,

sometimes his jaw, pinning him

under the cold earth.

The prey turned to fight,

emboldened by these stories,

outnumbered them.

And so now the beast

was relegated to myth,

and he relinquished

his power by might

as the man who could not die

fled into the night.

Ev’ry so often

the monster walked amongst men

taking on a guise-

human in their eyes-

gaining trust, admiration,

accumulate wealth,

and they made him king.

A kind, cold monarch by day

holding power close,

hunting with new stealth-

an indiscreet prostitute,

or a servant child,

vanished in the dark.

As time passed and he changed not,

schemes were set in place-

an heir would appear

and the vampire king vanish,

power passing hands

between the undead

as an empire was built up

unbeknownst by men.

The enemy ruled

as the hunter was hunted,

it became a game

of cat and of mouse,

while the cat wore crowns.

Advertisements