Dracula: Son of the Dragon

The man died. The name did not. Listen to what survived. His father, Vlad Dracul, bore the sign; The Dragon's Order marked his line. His son inherited the name, Before the whispers, before the blame. A hostage boy in foreign lands, His future held in others' hands. His father slain, he claimed a throne; The choices after were his own. Wallachia beneath his hand, The Ottoman drums across the land. He struck by night with torch and steel; Beyond the walls, the stakes were real. The captive and the helpless bled; No crown could answer for the dead. A border held, a people scarred - How much of home can terror guard? Son of the Dragon, iron and flame, A crown can fall. A tale can reign. Stone turns to dust and banners rot - The man died. The name did not. Son of the Dragon, carved into dread, They kept his name, not the names of the dead. The presses turned; his rivals wrote. Each horror found another throat. Some crimes were fact; some tales were spun - No lie absolved what he had done. Then one last war, one final breath; No crown could buy him back from death. His pulse went still. His flesh grew cold. His name survived in stories told. Centuries passed. The grave did not open. A book did. Old tales of hunger, older fears, Came whispering across the years. A writer took a name from war And gave the night a castle door. Come in. The mountain roads are cold. These walls have watched your world grow old. The mirror holds no trace of me; Your pulse betrays you, tenderly. No army drums. No battle cry. Just one warm throat, and you and I. I drink what time would steal from you; The night is old. The blood is new. Son of the Dragon, iron and flame, A crown can fall. A tale can reign. Stone turns to dust and banners rot - The man died. The name did not. Son of the Dragon, velvet and bone, Lord of the night, yet forever alone. They gave his name a thousand lives And let the man dissolve from view. What use is being deathless When all that's left was never you? Close the book. Turn out the light. The story ends. But not the night. Son of the Dragon, thunder and flame, A crown can fall. A tale can reign. Stone turns to dust and banners rot - The man died. The name did not. From blood into ink, from ink into fear - Dracula! The night is here! Close every window. Lock every door. The page is closed - He walks once more! The man died. The name did not. Dracula! Son of the Dragon!