this is a gift

On the nights of heat

The men and women will ride

Up to the North or down to the South

On the cascading rides full of screams

Splashing it down the slippery slope

Going deep into the pits

The night watchers will pimp

They hope to catch the waywards on heat

They don't believe they do it wrong

They think they are the saints

Without the screaming organs and hollows

It will be a sad, sad, crushing blow

The drumbeats of the bridges

The water flow deep sweeping in anticipation

The broken sticks; the shortest poles, the thundercats

The wind of whisper the brushing of ecstacy flow

The echo of the bridges reaping its rewards

Spoil by the nightwatchers cracking its whip

Yet the nights of heat

It will filter through codes and means

The games of hide and seek flourish

Even angels fall for the passion

Who can fault creations?

It is meant to live it up

It is only the night watchers

Stick it in by Lucifer to thwart a plan

Going all out to punish those involved

The dating games and its benefits

Cascading down from the nights of passion

And they say it is wrong!

On the nights of heat

You can see God's paradise

Nothing will beat its creation

This is a gift

It makes our mundane life comes alive!