Beauty feasts; and let her feast
She knows not what she drinks.
'Tis not poison, but the sweetest nectar,
Bright, innocent and living crimson.

The pulsing artery does thrill
The maiden's body, in rapture writhes;
And I shall watch with sadistic delight
As my fair princess devours her kin.

Delightful, delightful to watch her bite
To know she will fall from Heaven's light.
Her addiction to blood has stolen away
The innocence in which youth doth play.

fin