Must Be Vampires.

Cloaked figures and pale faces,
They glide through mist and fog,
There is no sound, no evidence,
As they drift through the smog.

They're vampires - there is no doubt,
Too cool to 'no' that truth,
Graceful limbs and gleaming teeth,
There's nothing too uncouth.

Transfixing with those glowing eyes,
A power yet unseen,
Just the tang of too-fresh blood:
The evidence they've been.

Avoid them, run off, if you can,
They invite only bad...
But in their own remote facades,
There's something almost-
Sad.