Bloodguilt

I sign my life's vow in my own blood
Those who would be lords -- mere minions of death,
my foes.
The startled glance of recognition, loathing, fear
has become the thing I most fear.
Still I persist.

Who else to take up this sword?
Who else, this life?
The burden, the guilt, mine alone to bear
laid on me in blood.
Blood of my sire.

Tides, oceans of blood I've spilt
protecting the flow-tide of humankind's
from my father's people
No -- my people.

It is within me, this cursed blood.
I ignore its demands, but still...
The thirst is in me to give in, submit
Become one who... No! I will not kill!

At least not that way
though they hate me so.

These humans' lives so brief, so bright.
I can count on a single hand those who
peered boldly into my soul's night --
Leila, Charlotte, Doris, Dan
Polk and others --
Strange. That's more than one hand.

Perhaps, there is a ray of hope still;
the reason I hunt valid remains,
to protect this fleeting, fragile, precious light
from the darkness that would
devour it whole.