Swift is nightfall’s
Accursed dagger
Draining
A full day’s glow

All for the good
Of her beloved
And devious young
In the care
Of her mothering shadow

Free
From the snarling
Blistering gleam
From the ravenous call
Of sunlit wrath

The wicked rave
With primal lust
As the silent drowse
Wearily
Indisposed, by savory dreams