His Fang sink deep into your neck, Blood flows freely from the wound.
you feel your soul slip away. A pact that can never be undone. Your last
sun rise, remeber it well. For the next one you are in hell. Your pure
soul corrputed and tainted. You see your error. But it's all to late.
You flee there embrace, only to be drawn back in. Death is a welcomed
sanctuary, but of even that you are robbed. Standing up to them works
only until you are knocked down. Fear they instill, there power grows.
You banish your fear there power weakens. You defy them, they weaken
more. you run into the sun and die, There power you have taken

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Midsummer, in the year 56 MA.