The Evolution Of Revolution

i can still taste, frozen moonlit blood night dripping from my fangs, can feel the earth writing pawstruck, the cool damp loving grasses. still shudder with the howl, that opens and spills my soul, my eyes alive and searching for the hint of passion. pour a glass of wine, we'll speak softly like civilized men and women... talk of books, ideals, the evolution of revolution, and paint a portrait of god. still the drums beat, the wind calls with a lover's need. the trees mumble with magnetic sweeps, and the night boils like blood! pour a glass of wine, we'll speak softly like civilized shells lying empty on the beach. longing for that old longing, the evolution of revolution... but we would be gods!