Temperance

My heart was aching softly as I slipped into my skin.
The taste of my new blood was as silent and foreign,
As the face I saw before me in the light, enlightened
By a soft touch of green.

Gentleman, was he.

Swiftly, was how I watched him dancing through the ages.
Pardoned, I was for being so very sadly mistaken,
That I could ever stop dreaming of him without a doubt in my mind,
And  that the dance he'd shown me wouldn't take my heart with every inch of kind.

Prude, was I.

Soothingly, I would take his hand and reassemble our existence,
Shockingly, he'd turn me without any form of resistance.
Mockingly, we'd dance among others who had free-lanced,
Their love into something as cliche as a simple ball-room dance.

Plastic, were they, but so was I.

And how could he love me, with all the oceans I've cried,
All the terrible things to tell but set aside,
All the horrible thoughts I'd kept in my mind?
Or was this all okay in his eyes?

That frightened me to death, that it might be acceptable,
I knew what I was, and no one was capable,
Of loving such a monstrous thing without having a doubtable,
Thought of what I could do to shatter us all.

And so I hoped he wouldn't leave me on this filthy, rotten earth.
I hoped that no deceiving would be taking him first.
I hope that just maybe his love would not thirst,
For the good of those damned angels that have wandered this earth.