The Scarecrow and the Crows

It's full moon fever on this cloudy Scottish night Dark angels leave their roosts in shadowy eerie flight To the fields they fly as if summoned by an invisible force This date has always been, it's just a matter of course For always on this night when the scarecrows face becomes lit A village would soon be divided in terror screaming split Frenzied inhabitants, would run amok in killing spree Frothing at the mouth whilst staring at skeletal trees The moonlight captures flapping silhouettes of black Swooping down in stealth their attack shows no lack Beaks in laceration whilst crimson oozes free Like headless chickens they run in panic spree The dawn draws ever near amidst scenes of carnage spew Bodies abound in deadened lie, as the new morn views What's strange about this happening, is the lost are never mourned It's as if they were never born, their birth never adorned http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark-10.php