- rayetwatson
Poetry of the Undead, Maddened Soul

Ten years ago, two years into my writing of what would become Bloodlink, I was very much into playing online games. One in particular game I played had a vampire theme. We joined a group called a coven and we used group chat feature to ask for help to get resource to strengthen the cities we built or defend from enemy
covens, create story lines for our group, and just chat in general.
One night, I was rather bored and after asking if anyone was on several times in the chat and getting no response, I started to write a poem of sorts. Each line was sent individually. I figured it was a good way of telling others I was available if they needed me. Several members came online when I was writing, but they just let me keep writing until I couldn't think of another line.
I realized shortly after that while Morsa had been a character in the Bloodlink storyline from the start, that this was my first real look into her mind. And I wrote it sitting alone, in the dark, speaking into the nothingness and unsure of anyone could hear. I imagine she did a lot of that while caged up in her attic room.
Since that time in chat, I have never shown it to anyone, but I think it might interest some of you now. Enjoy!
Morsa's Original Poem / Spring 2012 the cold moon rises
and there a scream of terror in my heart
I am alone
I am hunted and wanted nowhere
my blood runs chill
death has overtaken me
it has consumed me
twisting me inside
black death overshadows everything I see
life is brittle
Humanity is weak
they will all fall
they will all die
I will not be ruled by their weak flesh
their weak blood
My time has come
A world shrouded in night
My eternal pleasure
The bloom of all that is
all that was
Deeper I sink
Slowly rotting at my core
Purified by sweet blood
sweet tastes
sweet venom of mine
Death is my waking
Death is my sleeping
Soothing mentor speak to me
Sing me praises
Sing me sweet wickedness
Light is a demon to be played with
A devil in the eyes that hunt me
Come hunters, come children small
come with spears, knives, guns and all
I am watching
I am waiting
I am the predator to be preyed
Sweet seduction, where am I
seducer my playmate
friend and foe
alike, and true to my form
scatter pieces, shatter wind, rain and snow
heat the ground, start the spark
burn my friend
I will watch and smile
Rotting tormentor, friend to me
Come closer, closer
and I will kill thee
Wicked, twisted thing am I
time for you, my friend, to die
Die crying
Die in pain
Scream aloud my wicked name
Die slowly and without peace
Die my friend, so I may feast
Slowly, sadly you sing for me
Now, no more shall you be
Wicked, wicked child am I
Time for you to say goodbye
I hope you enjoyed this little taste of Morsa in the early stages of her development as a character. If you have any questions or comments or ideas on topics you'd like me to cover in the future, leave them below. I will be posting at least once a week. So until next time, stay sane!