Weakling

[Jassy Melson]

You approach me with your hangdog expresssion,
complaining thay no one appreciates the gift you can give
of eternal life. I say to to you, you don't know how lucky you are
to have lived this long. You, with your impatient hunger, do you expect
everyone to bow down and offer their necks to you in total submission?
And although I appreciate the fact that you have underdone the transformation
and are now one of us, I cannot help but feel that you are weak, and that you
will not last that long. It's sad, but it's far from being a tragedy. I have seen
many of you come and go. You lack the spine to be one of us.

I have existed for five hundred years. It took courage, and lack of self-pity,
and totlal ruthlessness for me to exist this long. So when you come to me
complaining that no one appreciates you, I laugh in your face.

No one forced you to become one of us, so gird your loins
as that quaint book the Bible urged us to do, stand up and accept
what you are; don't expect any thanks or appreciation
for the “gift” you are imparting. Be thankful for the dark god
who has enabled you to be one of the Undead.

[virtuoso]

To whom are you referring in this poem? Who gives the "gift of eternal life" in this poem?

[Jassy Melson]

This poem doesn't require that I go into detail about who gives the gift.