Vampire’s Wish

It is broad daylight of a Friday morning.

In a coffin, somewhere an entity is sleeping.

Sleeping perchance is dreaming

Dreaming of the times of full youth,

When warm blood coursed through his body.

When other mortals cared for his lobby.

When he could lay in the sun

Until his mind falls asleep

And in his dream he could count countless sheep.

But now, this horrible present

This age of production.

New weapons, new bodies,

New ways to pay rent.

Catastrophic destruction.

So the vampire sleeps,

Sleeps in his Elysium,

And hopes when he is awake,

The world is not an asylum