Frenzy.
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Stay away.
I will not feed.
I will not.
I will stay here.
I see my child,
my beloved,
or do I?
I see red every where I look.
My child,
no longer a child,
but a source or life.
My love,
not recognized.
I see the throbbing blood,
moving through their veins.
I wonder who they are.
I don't care.
I must have them,
but no I can't, I tell myself
as he approaches.
I can't get my fill...
I must stop... but I can't.
So thirsty... Oh, so thirsty...
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