Undead

Undead

A Poem by Krista

 L et the undead wake,

 

so mighty and powerful.

Yet not immortal quite,

sun may burn the skin,

not a kill though.

Stake anywhere won't do any good,

unless its made out of wood.

Still must pierce the heart,

to make a kill.

Holy waters burn their skin as sun does.

Only the oldest does the sun not damage.

To cross the threshold,

an invite must be made.

Unless withdrawn,

may return any day.

Drink blood they do,

not human always,

animal does fine.

Let the undead sleep,

while the sun may burn.

© 2009 Krista


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Added on April 17, 2009

Author

Krista
Krista

PA



About
My name is Krista. I'm 27 years old. I have an eating disorder and am a cutter. I'm also depressed most of the time a very negative out look on life. more..

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