Copyright RavenBlack, Jamboree 1998.
Upon horizons out of sight,
A man wades through a murky night,
Shivering, shuddering, cold, alone,
He sits, he stares at the telephone.
Surrounds himself with shining things,
Your feathers pluck at his heart's strings,
Blood creeps slowly 'neath his skin,
Wishing, praying for nights of sin.
Hanging on your every word,
Eyes locked as unto a bird,
Watching as dark feathers unfurled,
One day you, the next, the world.
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