Drunk with madness and spirits
With the devil, they whirl

Dressed in daggers pockets ring with coin
The skies feared the words of the night birds’ song
The cold brook whispered of blood on the rocks
The half-moon bowed to the Lord of dark

Hand in hand with the Horned God dance
Frenzied and ensnared in evils trance
Kneel to him who fears the touch of light
So passed the willing victims
And their souls lept high

Wayward souls of the conscious world
Drunk with madness and spirits
With the devil, they whirl

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Mar. 13, 2017
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