Vlad the Impaler

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Buckets of crimson
lay at his feet
the victim supported
a pike in his seat

Vlad throws back his head
he laughs in the night
the victim grows cold
his eyes losing their light

Malicious cackling
rings through the hills
to Vlad and his men
this is sport played for thrills

He snatches a flask
filled to the brim
with the precious life-blood
that flowed from within

Vlad takes a deep draft
and feels the blood run
down his throat
what fun! what fun!





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