To clothe my love, I slew Dracula himself to wrap her in his cloak.
Now the blood she steals, the heat, the life is hers to breathe.
I have clad the moon in blood; she has stolen all the hearts of them,
The victims, martyrs of their flesh.
She leaves them dry, but as they die, they smile
To blush white 'fore their death. Then as the darkness swarms to meet her
Souls cry out to deaf ears, but mine
Is the only one to make her gasp and
Clutch her chest, for her heart rests in promised hands.
I grasp it gently. Hand to home she
Races back to cut the night and share her feast of blood with
Me, the only one to make her blush a little lighter,
Squeeze a little tighter, crimson on the moon face,
Beams that fill us up to make the night shine brighter.
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