A sort of start at a poetic retelling of the classic Dracula tale:

Rules of the Beast I
by Michael Romani

As the approach is made to castle
There is fear amongst its vassals
A crucifix is given in protection
It's a mistake perhaps of circumspection

With a knock upon the castle door
Bats are released and perhaps something more
Jonathan Harker steps forward with hesitation
He finds the table of his destination

A dinner is ate as it's set out for one
The man eats not knowing what's begun
In a rising labyrinth of darkened shadow
It is a prison without locks to know

Death knows its cold and chilling embrace
With questions biting in the window's face
Mirrors given in moments of feeble vanity
The blood driven in all the pulsing humanity

Drops of blood contain a bit of all of everything
All of the lives lived and given are as nothing
All that is past and present is instantly known
And through this flow in our veins is shown

Shown and heard in the castle creaks and groans
As if the Count's house were his very own
With each heartbeat one seeks the solace of home
Where love is heaven and we are not alone

This pride in ourselves is surely beyond compare
Each of these providing their soul binding snare
We live our lives in startling, numbing contradiction
Obliged to stumble along often without direction

Life is filled with its unexpected turns
A maze of sorts from which we are to learn
All of our steps taken leading to wrong choice
As the rules of the beast starts to find its voice 

(c) January 10, 2020  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved