Morning has broken; biters are snoring.
Black night: awoken, frightening scourge
raised up for swigging, tasting from gorging;
canines in digging. . .serum-emerge.

Sweet the vein’s ooze; all of night the dead ones
slice; this curse chews all necks turned to slash.
Tasting the sweetness of the wet larder,
tongue makes non-neat mess, there in the gash.

Like not the sunlight, bright in the morning.
Damned purged and smokin’ in sunburst scourge.
Daylight is bringing rays; live not mourning.
Wasted, those swigging; fiends sing a dirge.

Morning had broken; biters were gorging.
Daylight: still soakin’ up blood—no dearth.
Time they weren’t keeping; rays of the morning
came ere their digging into boxed earth.