In the cave,

Of the cab,

The boot,

Not the bonnet,

The screams of silence cry.

 

Rope and wetness, 

Glisten on cobblestone,

The vultures lurk,

The ripper stalks.

 

Greenish luminescence,

A sulfuric smile,

Lights up the night,

The horses trot and gallop.

 

The galavants scours,

The cold mooncast night,

Hungering from a thirst,

Unquenchable and insatiable.

 

The blood of the virgins

Spills into the night

Beneath the slivered hook

Of the moon.