A bitter drought has gripped your reign
Bring forth the women and their spawn
Pray to your Gods if they can hear
Our jaded kind to carry on
The trusted vintages are dry
The teaming rivers turned to dust
Sun scorched the bones beneath the sky
Will you return to dine with us
We are the fruit
The ones untasted
All your silences are wasted
We are the wine
The finer spirits
As you cry too loud to hear us
We are the sustenance and pleasure
As you suffer at your leasure
We are the future to replace you
But our flavors are untasted
vampireweather 