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.
Katy's Space 