A Vampire, on the Making of Lestat

If you've read Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, you might enjoy this... particularly if you love Anne Rice's favourite vamp as much as I do :)

Impervious, with silence grand,
The ancient one extends his hand.
One taste of blood, a shocking kiss,
To drain a mortal man to this.

Cold black eyes, unfeeling stare,
He disregards the desperate prayer.
And tilting back the comely throat,
A single-minded pause, to gloat.

And then, the rape; his blood consumes
The screaming mortal in the tomb
Until, in splend’rous stupor lies,
The man with still-defiant eyes.

And now, the Change; the pain supreme
To wake him from his mortal dream,
And with eternity reveal,
The endless Gift, so Darkly real.

Awakens he, the fledgling fine,
Whose silver eyes’ unnatural shine,
And alabaster skin betray--
The human in him died that day.

In beauty fierce and strength untold,
So he was made, from blood of old,
And so he’s been, forever since;
Lestat the Fiend, our own Brat Prince.

The End

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