As I Walked Out One Night

2 Sep
I’m trying to get some much needed sleep. Alas, I cannot find sleep nor can sleep find me. I have been tossing and turning, bothered by the events earlier this evening that transpired in another group. I do not care what those people think about me personally. I am bothered by the ignorance running rampant within the Vampire Community. I can not cure it, I know. Still…This prose I wrote earlier this year popped into my head whilst I was desperately hunting down the Sandman. I believe that this particular prose accurately conveys my feelings about the diseased and ignorant organism known as the OVC/VC.

By Julia DarkRose Ray
Copyright 2013

As I Walked Out One Evening…

I looked over his shoulder

for vines and olive trees,

for marble, well-governed cities

and ships upon wine-dark seas;

But there on the shining metal

his hands had put instead

an artificial wilderness

and a sky like lead.

The stars are dead.

The animals will not look.

He, my deluded lover,

asked me to lay my sleepy human head

upon his faithless arm.

Instead, I plunged my hands into the red water,

I plunged them in up to my wrist;

Stare, Oh how I stared into the basin

and I wondered why the world had chosen to miss

the shining darkness before them.

The glacier knocks in my cupboard,

the desert sighs in my bed,

and the crack in my tea cup opened.

So, I walked out onto the lane,

it led to the land of the dead.

As I walked out one evening,

I went through the werewolf’s painful change.

Turning my head away

on the sweaty bolster, I tried to remember

the mood of my womanhood,

but lying in my sweat and blood, at last, as always,

letting it happen, the fierce fur,

soft to my face.

I now hear with sharper ears,

and live and love with the darkness

of my fallen grace.

With my bestial understanding,

I open my wolfen eyes and see…

The soul shrinks

from all that it is about to and should remember,

from the punctual rape of every blessed day,

and cries,

“Oh, let there be nothing on earth but what I choose to see,

nothing but rosy glasses to cover my eyes,

and gloves to cover my hands in the rising steam

and guilty, blurred dances done in the sight of heaven.”

Those living in the false light of day,

their minds in its purest play is like some bat

that beats about in caverns all alone,

contriving by a kind of senseless wit

not to conclude against a wall of stone.

They have no need to falter or explore;

dimly it knows what obstacles are there,

and so, the beastless human,

may weave and flitter,

dip and soar,

in perfect courses through the blackest air.

They never find the way out of their cave

and into the precious, saving graces of the Darklight.

Pale souls they are, consumed by fear

of the living world they haunt.

Yet, they have not learned what habits lead them

to hunt what they do not want;

Nor have they learned who does not need them;

They are no one here,

until they are truly the someone they need to be.

Oh, what made them so ugly, to me,

was self-inflicted ignorance.

Incurable ignorance.

I don’t want to harm them,

I think this very thought,

right up to the moment I cut their throats

with the truth.

I am touched with the moon’s red silver,

I am my own wolf sun,

made of human moonlight.



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