Beneath Les Innocents

A poem based on Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, mostly Armand, one of my favorite characters!

The end is not as hard as it seems,

Especially when it seems you have nothing to live for.

I keep waiting for the blinding light to reach me

But all there is is complete and utter darkness.

 

I've been hidden underneath the earth and bones

For what must be ages.

Sometimes I wish they'd lock me up

Like all the other forgotten devils.

 

I have no faith and have even less passion

Running through my eternal veins.

Feeling ancient and miserable, I hope night

And day that death will take me.

 

"We are doing God's will," they say,

Those impident stooges of immortals.

Those blind, incompedent fools.

But who's the real fool here?... Me, of course.

 

I fell from classical virtue into the

Stinking lap of the destroyers of all we

Believed in.  I'm so cold

and sick of this joke of a life.

 

I beg, again and again, for death to take me.