Bloody Lines

by Midnight Pandora Morgan
(Sanford,Maine,us)

From her hand pints of blood flows
From her lips the sweet cry for blood
From her body all the men fall at her feet
She is a Murder and she takes joy in it...

From his hand millions fall
From his lips commands that can't be ignored
From his body he cultivates his mundanes
He is a King of sorts...

Together they have killed millions of mortal and immortals alike.