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Red-Eye Express

In my mind's quarry panning souls. As I fly low to the ground with obsidian night-wings. Keeping score in my journal with writer's ink. Ready to print on the Gutenberg machine. Hungering for blue eyes for my lusting feast. Posting conclusions of the little lost foal with Obituarius ink.

And after the wake at the Suds and Shake, come soar with me and ever-glide. Panning for souls of vampire's gold as we go to press with Cupid's scroll.  

But being as I am in the pantomime mode. Use hand signals when you are ready to board the red-eye express.

 

 

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