OC ALAGART SADMORE

The breed which should surfeit of blood via verity bloodshed
As he’d reeled of the ikon crossings on ’em inner hall’s wall
With their family tree fervent in frequency with seasons of feeding feast
“In so thousands of storeys you’d fall on cactus crust and yet roar like bear
With thy speed swift as the passage of cheetah in-form of electrical charge
And the thus thy approaching feet being the cuss causing shiver for our opposing clan…”
Quoth his fervid friend whose pointed pair fangs fall from far on either sides
A glutton beast whose lungs rest not from fresh feed from nightly hunt
The age-long compeer of Sadmore whom he saved from burning in light.

Lives he cursed in cloud-cuckoo-land — as the thee of so much divergment
So light in weight reliever, warrior in guise whenever nights nigh
Saving his graceful souls for the best of the paradise to pour
Behaving knightly in actions yet keeping the good girls good and
Leading the bad boys back into their bad baskets from rooftops on darkly
veils with glittering crimson diamond eyes gleaming fearsomely whilst
His rare reddish hair be stacked right across his seeing sight to fly as his
presence only pause the mo to save n’ leave with clouds whirling apart
Would fight and take shots to the sides and fore and to save the city so
to come in as the prince later to nurse the wounds which should have healed
Should he use his fangs to feed on man to be in stronger shape to fight
Would wear the king’s worth in the morn and noon with pretence of
Every of ’em nightly effect always put behind with frankly face of a villain
One vegetarian vamp whose course had been morphed off course of cause
To be different as the referent whose fangs only wet juices as blood’s gross.
© Jodekss

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