2 Vampire Sonnets, 1 of them M Rated

I hate the sun’s sultry molten yellow metal fondle.
I’d rather have his sister’s cool and bright quicksilver stroke.
The heat and light of fiery day scorch my skin and sear my eye.
The night’s fresh caress sends lascivious shivers down my spine.

Oh, how I long for sunlight’s warm embrace;
Weary I grow, of cold and pale moon’s stroke.
But such pined for boon would prove my fiery death,
I’m left with his sister’s cooler caress.

Though I do not admit it, not even to myself, and
You will never hear me say it, deep down inside of me,
In a secret and buried crypt, lies the seed of all this
Hatred and disdain. It stems from a very deep longing and
A raw sore yearning, for the Life that is no longer mine.
At the root of my soul, defining who I am, lies this.

Where before, against my desire, I was penetrated
Through coercion by their virile member, which injected
In me the tepid and viscous seed of life; presently,
Against their will, I compellingly pierce their flesh with my
Predatory fangs, to slurp their warm and fluid river of life.
Where once I was the victim, nowadays I am the foe.

I hate them and scorn them for their warm and living bodies,
So fragile and corruptible, subject to injuries
And decay, making for their finite lifespan, their scourge of
Mortality. They fear and hate my cold dead flesh, stamp of
The undead, unmindful of its endurability,
That it grants me virtual invulnerability,
Endowing me with an eternal existence.
I am of the undead, and death to those who are not mine.