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Description
The tears stream down my face,
spilling unto the ground beneath my feet.
The puddle that it once was
has now become a mirror,
reflecting a horrible monster
that should never been seen.
The darkness surrounds me,
and I am nevermore.

I long for death to come on swift wings.
I wish for anything but this.
This body is not mine.
These chains don't belong on me.
I am what I fear the most.
The creature in the reflection is me.
And so, the darkness comes.

Even as the last of my kind,
I do not wish to suffer this immortal life.
I search the depths of my soul
for some purpose,
but there is nothing but hate.
This hate, which I feel so much for myself,
engulfs me and swallows me up.
I am no longer a demon
of wrath and revulsion.
I am nothing.
The darkness surrounds me,
and I am nevermore.

Don't ask me where that came from, I just made it up as I was going. I did this fellow with just some simple mix of colored pencils and a mechanical pencil. He's going to be in my story as a dieing race of vampires. He is the last. He wants to die though because of all the hatred towards his kind, but not only that, but because he hates what he is. He hates how he looks and what he must always do (drink blood from the living). Yet, as a prince, he is immortal and thus cannot die. So instead he surrenders his soul to the darkness, so he is nothing. His soul vanishes and is lost and it was as if he was never born, but in his opinion, it's better than living forever.

Description
The tears stream down my face,
spilling unto the ground beneath my feet.
The puddle that it once was
has now become a mirror,
reflecting a horrible monster
that should never been seen.
The darkness surrounds me,
and I am nevermore.

I long for death to come on swift wings.
I wish for anything but this.
This body is not mine.
These chains don't belong on me.
I am what I fear the most.
The creature in the reflection is me.
And so, the darkness comes.

Even as the last of my kind,
I do not wish to suffer this immortal life.
I search the depths of my soul
for some purpose,
but there is nothing but hate.
This hate, which I feel so much for myself,
engulfs me and swallows me up.
I am no longer a demon
of wrath and revulsion.
I am nothing.
The darkness surrounds me,
and I am nevermore.

Don't ask me where that came from, I just made it up as I was going. I did this fellow with just some simple mix of colored pencils and a mechanical pencil. He's going to be in my story as a dieing race of vampires. He is the last. He wants to die though because of all the hatred towards his kind, but not only that, but because he hates what he is. He hates how he looks and what he must always do (drink blood from the living). Yet, as a prince, he is immortal and thus cannot die. So instead he surrenders his soul to the darkness, so he is nothing. His soul vanishes and is lost and it was as if he was never born, but in his opinion, it's better than living forever.