Who and What am I???

Pensions from past,
are tensions of present.
Uncertainty of future,
haunts my sense.


Lowly is the crowd,
and lower is the cater.
Am I a Demon resurrection,
or seriously a God's incarnation.


Why I feel so hard to kneel,
my passions hold alleviated appeal.
Am I a fiction,
a fragment of someone's creation.


Hard it is to live,
with so many answers to give.
Yet i strive,
speeding my drive.


May the world be in mayhem,
may dragons attack and cram.


Let the worst of the worst,
fall on this wretched earth.
For i don't know, I am who?
& for that whom do I sue.

Scouting for Van Helsing!!!

Blood, Tears and Blades,
heavy hilts studded with Jades.
Bodies lying on floor,
Red splashed, walls and doors.


Beyond the room, a starry night.
Stone gargoyles soaring in sight.
Brutal howls and frightened shreaks,
Walking below a long black drape wearing freak.


Sword in hand,
he gave an undistinguished command.
All gargoyles disappeared in night,
and what I saw now, was a sheer fright.


Hundreds of Bats devouring few humans,
Blood splattered, floor burns.
Red over gray was the pattern,
High rise, stone mounted sat Satan.


Slow moving figure in black drape,
with contoured eerie shape.
Chill crept down my spine,
and fear gripped the emotional shrine.


Stooping low figure kissed a naked girl,
and a muffled scream escaped her.
Then was when lightning shone again,
and I glimpsed the face of terror's reign.


White as a chalk was the skin,
with elongated canines, guilty of cannibalistic sin.
Scared I was like an empty shell,
maybe I was viewing inside the window of Hell.


All hair erect to the end,
Shivering and quivering, that I couldn't fend.
Somehow I managed to utter,

"Mr. Helsing; count is here."