---

sons and daughters of the meadow
a tree line clandestine
ritual of play
casting seasons into years
our eyes narrow
to the fluttering sky
a colony nocturnal
the witching hour in flight
i was slight at twelve
when the notion dawned
those aren't birds, harrying the dusk
a cauldron of red eyes flit
boiling over in pairs
bloodshot
blood-love
bloodlust
tattering clouds burst
on pointed wings
envoys of the equinox
ribboning through slithy
with malice
this is blood-love
this is bloodlust
this is bat country.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.