A coffin in the catacombs
lies covered in a cold, dank room.
Lit torches on the grey stone walls
cast sharp-edged shadows 'round this tomb.
Scraped wood on wood. The heavy lid
is lifted off by upraised hands.
A head and torso soon appear.
Then suddenly the vampire stands.
A heinous mask, his bone-white face,
with piercing eyes that glow with fire.
Bared fangs revealed in evil grin,
a lust for blood his sole desire.
Awakened now and on the prowl.
this creature's cursed, abhorred by men,
but Dracula must slake his thirst
before bright morning comes again
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