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NECRO
(the poem)

The Day was cold and misty weather, 
I took out coat from human leather. 

As I got out, I went to the park, 
reckless, although it was getting dark. 

He said 'Necro, that's who am I. 
You attract me, I won't deny.' 

His eyes were blue like the deepest ocean, 
his skin was pale like he drank death potion. 

Our taste for blood was what made us cursed, 
Our loneliness was what made it worse. 

Once we have met, in true love we fell, 
No one can take us what once we felt. 

... LIKE HE CAME FROM  A DIFFERENT PLACE
(the text)

My parents were arguing again, so I put on my coat and went out. For some people the weather wasn’t very good, but I - I loved it. 
It was a cold hazy dim day. I headed to the park.
There, I took a deep breath - at this time, the park was filled with the pleasing smell of death. The residents were dying and little children of the lessors were playing in the flesh of rotting carcasses. The sun of today’s journey was about to pull the trigger. How beautiful.

Suddenly, out of nowhere there appeared a man. He was tall, the long black coat he was wearing and his long hair made him seem even taller. 
The stranger crouched down and looked in my eyes and said: “Hello, little black kitty staring at a pile of dead bodies, let me introduce myself. My name is Necro. ” 
Necro’s eyes were so deep blue, that I almost drowned in them and with the tone of the skin he had on he seemed like a vampire.
I stood there like I had frozen to death, fright in eyes, but I felt so glad. He said: “I am an artist, I draw and write. We can be friends, if you would like.” 

His soul is for me like the world behind the mirror. Strange, unknown, but with the same mistakes and scars. Except for one thing - he can not hug me, because I am not real.

Valeria Werthee Obsell
19. 11. 2020