The hawkmoth flew on silent wings
Around the dancing moon of fire,
With pink and tessellated eyes,
And scent of oleander brier.
A jackal prowled the maze at night.
She stripped the flesh and stole the bones.
She spoke the language of the hills,
And cowered when I cursed her moans.
A whipsnake sheltered from the sky.
It coiled and wound its way this deep,
To prey on rats and sleeping bats,
It warmed its scales on rotting meat.
They came as innocents, unplanned,
Like messengers of other lands.