Campfire

That naked black light lantern in the sky burns up the fucking stars My putrefaction overwhelms your eyes And while the skinner in the forest gathers up his sodden things I'm spitting on the fire as it dies Feel the driving wind against your back and pull that final portion from your pack Oh how serene this evening and how colorful this twilight moon. I hope the clouds will bring my lady soon... It's raining for my master and his bright, emboldened, wicked dreams It's raining towards oblivion, it seems.