Blood on the Lupines

As the sun bids farewell
To this dusty wash
Its final thin rays
Kindle tiny stars
That dance
In no particular time
Specks of stray glass
That collect the last hints
Of the fleeting light
Of the fleeting light
As darkness grips
This wayward land
Scant flickers of transient light
Frolic in the distance
A sure sign of some dreary town
So I wander through the night
'Til I reach its shadowy edge
Where gravestones lay between
Shuttered homes and rusting hulks
Rusting hulks
Where I see her figure
Faceless in the gloom
And she says
«Turn away! These people are held by a cursed star
There’s blood on the lupines and a fever in this town
There’s blood on the lupines and a fever in this town»