by Gary W. Davis
As the dying sun in the west spreads shadows over the tombstones,
a cold wind sweeps through, and the ancient marbles moan.
Then a foul miasma rises from once-hallowed ground,
a faint, misshapen orb of unearthly light and sound.
A dark, cadaverous form coalesces from eddies in the ether.
Sunken eyes, dendritic fingers—a most unholy creature.
This denizen of the graves, whom the earth cannot bind,
glides swiftly over the headstones, trailing vermin behind.
Flying past the iron gates, it descends upon a darkened town.
Windows shuttered, cobblestones silent; no one lets his guard down.
Careening through deserted streets, the hunger grows by the hour,
until a distant light is spotted in a tall, medieval tower.
A shadow of feminine shape beckons the creature towards the light.
It scales the nitred walls, battlements looming in the night.
Into the chamber of a pure maiden enters death as a lover.
It approaches her reclining form; like a bird of prey, it hovers.
With a gasp of fetid breath, the creature bestows a sanguinary kiss.
The dying maiden clasps him; the creature senses nothing amiss.
The cock crows, dawn erupts; through the window sunlight pours.
From skin to bone to dust—Nosferatu is no more!
© 2019 Gary W. Davis
Gary Davis loves all things classic horror. He has published
haiku in Scifaikuest, Star*Line and a Lester Smith Halloween
(2016-2019). He has published other poetry in Tales of the
Bloodbond, Illumen and a sci-fi anthology, Kepler’s Cowboys
(2014-2019). Mr. Davis also enjoys writing spooky Halloween tales and
has two of them in Frostfire Worlds (2016-2017).
Find more by Gary W. Davis in the Author
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