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last night of the heat, with the swaps all misty. fresh food fills its boundaries. As night assends the faithfull come out to play. living in the shadows gliding from lim to lim. the nigts music plays as the sounds of wolfs and owls becon. i never knew a land so beautiful with vibrent wounders. But knowing only the feasts which lay a head. a bounty of riches as if they were caged. as my sun grows high and the wind does stir. I leave for walk down the medows, in wounder of who i might feast apon. to a girl so young and sweet or a boy prahaps tender with age. for no not to night a two corse meal as i see a pregnant woman and smell the plercenta calling. ................. as i purch my self high above her bed i look in definate, as something as rare as a eclips. for a moment as this would be a crime to waist. As i see my way to were i shall feast i make not a noise to spoil my prize and as i drank till i was full i woundered was this heaven. for a wounder of such filth to destroy my glee on a pittifull thing called GOD!!!!