Weavers Midnight
WEAVERS MIDNIGHT
Life, eternal midnight
This night as black as deaths ceiling with as much feeling
The air as heavy as lead
Truly a land of the dead
The night flower will bloom
For the rest it will spell doom
Has it ever been more than misery and gloom
The night fowl will fly
Day bird you die
What a lie
An intricately nest of lies
True man naver dies
Weavers, false believers
Born in the night, live in the night, die in the night
Open your eyes, see the light
Set things to right
Bring morning to this dark dank midnight
Lift the veil
Clear the mist
Free all to fly
By: H. C. Chipangura