I, Dracula: Part Two
By Jason Zapata
I ruthlessly sought to end Wallachia’s state of unrest
By enslaving the Boyars who could not escape guilt
Traitors who labored until Poenari’s walls were rebuilt
Because they dared to aid the Ottomans in their conquest
Those slaves who survived were impaled on my behest
On the shores of the Raul Roameni their blood was spilt
Where I had recovered Elisabeta’s body from the silt
With my power secure I began the campaign in Bucharest
Within the region’s woods my forces were concealed
My countrymen attacked what enemies we could beat
Striking their flanks hard and then quick to retreat
For fear that our location to the enemy be revealed
But Sultan Mehmed’s soldiers refused to yield
Forced into a pitched battle we could not compete
The proud sons of Wallachia eventually knew defeat
My army and ambitions lay slain on the battlefield
News of my loss and capture was warmly received
As I was dragged through the Turkish army helplessly
Jeering faces laughed and refuse was hurled at me
Victory over their most hated foe was finally achieved
The headsman ensured my pilloried neck was cleaved
My severed head was displayed for the enemy to see
Until a gyspy man would rob the turks of their trophy
From Constantinople’s walls my head was retrieved
The gypsy carried my remains to cursed scholomance
Where the Solomonari toiled to have my body restored
In exchange I became a disciple of their dark lord
With black magic and vampiric unlife I was enhanced
I would master the dark arts in this haunted expanse
In the defense of His Kingdom I had wielded a sword
But my battles, my prayers were ultimately ignored
So at God’s expense I would see my power advance