Romania, October 31, 1477
Splattered Patter
Splattered patter doesn’t matter.
In the vernacular of Dracula
“It’s just another neck to bite”
a trite write, late at night
full moon shining, the silver lining
whining over silver anything.
A carafe of red by the bed.
Who knows what type?
A+ is all the hype.
Yet, she’s the kind of guttersnipe
that’s easy to prey on
dumb as a crayon, fun to play on.
Mixed with a little tarragon
the “Sine Qua Non.”
She’s here now, in Castle Bran
home of the infamous bat-man
a fly by night, midnight bite
lily-white sweet delight.
Incite her inner beast.
Begin the feast, ‘til she’s deceased?
No! Save her for future use
to seduce, to reproduce the juice
that is my life.
Make her my wife.
A Countess, to reduce the stress.
And I shall write of her seductions
her abductions, all her transductions.
She will be the legendary
evolutionary, revolutionary
Countess of Wallachia.
Countess and enchantress
lascivious seductress
with eyes like a tiger.
and we shall name her, Maya.
Celebrate the feast, release the beast.
Satanic music on organ plays.
These are the nights of Lilith’s days
when men were men and women lay
supine and naked for the king.
While all the while the majestic thing
that leaked from Hell would have its way.
“Drink! Drink! The juice of our lives.
‘Tis a new night, and now I say
My friends, my equals, here today
we have born a Countess of Wallachia.”
We have named her Maya
and long may she reign
over the Red Horde, the Ile d’ Haine
the Power of the Night
until we all have lost the fight
and gloriously send our remains, , , ,
To Hell!!!!”
“Friends, kinfolk, neophytes
on this Night of Nights
let us celebrate with new blood.
No more Monastic life.
Let us fly to where sin is rife
where no one is there for the good.
We shall harvest the whores
and their dandy- men.
Let none remain to tell the lore.
Take all who caper in that playpen.
Feast on flesh and drink the blood.
Watch the playmates turn unborn
and fall into Hell with a thud.”
The swarm were fifteen strong as they barged in
a dozen females and three males, as guardians.
They changed life-forms to fit in
at the “Bottomless-Pleasures, Aestheticians.”
Madame’ La Rue greeted them at the door
“This is a gentleman’s spa!
The only women here are workers,” she stated.
“Alright girls, get to work,” The Count dictated.
“Give them what they’re looking for and more.”
The madame was irate until the Count passed
his hand across her eyes
and she sagged into a nearby chair
‘Thank you,” he said with a flair
“We’ll be taking over, you don’t mind.”
He said it like an order to which she replied, \"Yes ... .Sir.”
The night devolved into the tandem
of carnal pleasures and death.
The females insatiably took victims at random
and lured them to their last breath
with promises of erotic sensations
until all were hard-bitten
and drained until their death.
The girls who were workers there
fell into the arms of the guardians
and suffered the same fatal fare.
Sated and fulfilled, the horde
returned to Castle Bran.
“My happy cohorts, let us vow
to Satan and to Lilith, that we are now
the new plague of death to Mankind
that we shall continue our onslaughts
such as tonight\'s, and stop we will not
until all humans have been destroyed.”.
A roar of a shrill, bat-like nature filled the void
and once it was quiet the Count spoke
“ Long live the reign of Maya.
We pledge our fealty to Satan and to Lilith.’
and this became their mantra…..