From that day on, Dracula roamed the earth, alone and forlorn,
His heart heavy with sorrow, his spirit forever torn.
He longed for the maiden's love, but knew it could never be,
For he was a creature of the night, and she was a being of light.

He wandered through the centuries, a shadow of his former self,
A relic of a bygone era, a monster without wealth.
He saw civilizations rise and fall, and empires come and go,
But his heart remained unchanged, forever lost in the glow.

One day, he chanced upon a young woman, with a face so fair,
And his heart skipped a beat, as he gazed into her hair.
She looked so much like the maiden, who had broken his curse,
That he felt his heart stir, and his soul traverse.

He approached her slowly, with a hesitant stride,
And she looked up at him, with a curious, wondering pride.
"Who are you?" she asked, with a voice so sweet and clear,
And Dracula replied, with a voice that was barely a whisper, "I am the one who has been forever lost, forever alone, forever yearning for love, and forever cursed to roam."

The young woman looked at him, with a gaze so kind and true,
And Dracula felt his heart melt, as she reached out to him, anew.
"Perhaps," she said, "perhaps you are not forever lost,
Perhaps you are just a soul, who has been forever crossed."

And with that, she took his hand, and led him into the light,
And Dracula felt his heart heal, and his spirit take flight.
For the first time in centuries, he felt a sense of peace,
A sense of belonging, a sense of release.