When darkness descends and even the gods fall asleep our time begins.

We are the rulers of the dark. We are the predators of the shadows.

We are the aristocracy of the night.

Of Which We Cannot Say

The creature stalks and hunts its prey causing fear and hate throughout society
But as often seems to be he simplest cause completes reality
The hunter cannot live without the moment and the pain
Which it consumes through silver fangs with an ecstasy of pleasure insane
Nothing lives without the chaos or dreams of suffering and torment
And tainting the mind of youth for its unworthy gain
Filling tender heats with misery and pain
The only sanctuary available amongst such shattered hopes
A rag tag bunch of warriors armed with crosses and ropes
With cold hearts they try to filter what evil can create
These are the ones we must obey as they hide us in dangerous safety
As they walk among the enemy as they hunt us for their prey
Wooden steaks driven through twisted hearts as they seek out the evil the swore to slay
The vast fragments of society under watchful eyes with the justice that is mortality
When the hunted make the hunter the victim of the chaos they strove to create
It sometimes seems funny how are lives are dictated by an unseen fate
3.2.2000