He sits and waits for a victim, a visit,
Sitting behind pale windows.
He waits for uninvited, strange steps,
Waiting for neighbors, feet.
Behind the oak tree against the winter blue moon
Like a retraced, black monument.
Mutilated, exterminated, executed, hne,
Wanderer as acquaintance.
Hanged by the legs with steel and hemp
In Slactereika in the brow.
That dark evening, traces of battle,
The doomed, bloody sight.
Cut too blue,
Hanged too dry.
Condemned to death
I blinding darkness
He meets you quietly at the green gate
With a butcher's knife in the dark sheath.
You appear with fixed facts away,
He marks and marks the territory.
Eika str Painted black and eternal,
Adorned with bodies and dead.
Constant, unfading, eternal,
Contrasts with rotting flesh.

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