With the scent of damp ground and woodsmoke Nature’s incense unfurls Sated by carrion, the watchers land and gather Branches hang heavy as they observe For their memory, for their pain For their very essence I walk the crowpath
With the scent of damp ground and woodsmoke Nature’s incense unfurls Sated by carrion, the watchers land and gather Branches hang heavy as they observe For their memory, for their pain For their very essence I walk the crowpath