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