There’s a reach of air in a drop of water
A whale swimming across the clouds,
Stealing souls and eating everyone
Blows, blows, blow
Playing dead allows a breath,
While the dead rise to play again.
Rising from the water wave,
A monster born in a cave,
Taking more one by again.
There’s an apparition after the rise
A beast, a ghost, a dreadful demise,
It took blood, and bone, and brains
Carved the ground to its liking
Riding, flying, fleeing, to
the lands beyond.
Short and sweet, a honeysuckle sound
And a smell of morning dew