The Vampire

The water's raging surge
Laying on blades of madness,
Do you see the boat's transom
Ravaged, spangled in disfigurement,
Bleak, stranded, abandoned,
By a myriad of ghouls?

No form of life to see,
No virulent voices speak.
Even the guardian of night
Spurns the ancestral remnant.
Confounded by the weakened hull
That drifts on fuel and mortar.

Encompassing somber nights,
A host of devils they wander
ravenous, salivating, impetuous
The guardian sniffs out his prey
Still vital from his death sleep,
Thrusts his claws into human flesh.

Do not trek far my friend
The vampire has moved on in feast,
Turn around and steal off
To the chapel over the ridge,
Because your will is untainted,
In trust of your mortal soul.