You are the sweetness of a flower
as it grows,
The final call of innocence
before its sin,
and the tasty mixture of
spicy and sweet.
I am the black crow
searching for food,
The bloody bastard
hunting for fun,
And the final horizon
of the morning sun.
We are the cattle
searching for a spring,
The flowers waiting
for the bees,
And the wanderers
of a stormy weather.
HDA
