You’re Too Slow

"Eternal night, long night, come forth. Show your face for a moment, have a cup of wine before you leave. Drink it, and even your life will be gone. The path of the dead—flowers bloom there too. Where is the fine feast? Stain it pitch-black. Split into eight, flames of darkness. The black earth burns, gnawing away. What remains are pale white bones. Stand as tombstones, mourning for you. May you never again, in your next life, Become a sacrifice of ours...