The Vision Bleak 

 

  

 

   I Dined With The Swans

 

 

  Night... silent night

  Snow on the roof

  My breath turned to ice

  My mind was aloof

  

  Cold winter moon

  Shone through the reed

  Glistering frost

  What night for my deed!

  

  Onward and onward

  Away from the light

  to the lake by the grove

  To a beutiful white

  

  Ahh - what innocence

  The nature of grace

  But there shall be blood

  I would mire this place!

  

  White turned to red

   

  

  As I tore them apart

  I dined with the swans

  I drank from their heart

  

  Their fevering cries

  Dulled with a crack

  I broke all their spines

  I drank from their neck

  

  As I came to myself

  I heard not one sound

  Feathers fell like snow

  Unto cold sparkling ground

  

  I ivided from remorse

  In this night of great chill

  and vanished into the darkness

  It was time for a kill...