I was twenty-five when I died.
The memory to me was merely a stain.
I recall convulsing, twitching, and static
thoughts- blaring through my frantic brain.
Then the white I saw behind my eyelids
grew distant, and black had settled in.
Heaven itself fell away and darkness
took up residence, embodied me in sin.
When I awoke, my senses were screaming-
the pain was intense then quickly died away.
Jumpstarted, revved, then running smoothly-
I felt better than I ever had, I dare say.
He was sitting on the settee beside me, smiling-
his soul was burned inside my veins and mind.
He was such a mysterious and beautiful creature.
I knew instantly- now, I was one of his kind.
I was twenty-five when I died...
and that was when I really became alive.
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