This is a twilight hate.
A hostile tone.
A troubled fate.
In a cloudy zone.
An angel flies from the North.
Shot down by arrows and bows.
To the ground he falls.
To the sky he cries.
With a muffled moan... he dies.
Smiles seen in a greenish haze.
Children laugh, and rip off his wings.
A perfect land where children's eyes are dark as coal.
Or the stormy night.
A twilight land, where men kill men.
And children devour, the innocent.
Blood red fangs.
And mangled veins.
Is beauties grace.
In a twilight hate
