Little Blue Butterfly

black sun dying

black sun rising

is this impure

is this impure?

shadow of locust

this is beast

shadow of locust

this is at least

the slow descent of autumn

into the butcher garden

black sun dying

black sun rising

is this impure

is this impure?

children, it's midnight

it's time, we've come

hand in hand

on earth, in hell

sick or well

we're bleeding - all over - the world

you and me

on land and sea

in life, in dreams

or, so it seems

new beginnings

new ends

it's obvious

it's him

the deafening

beautiful

silence...

of sin!