Unicorn In a Box

Unicorn in a Box Now that he has his first trophy in hand He uses the horn to survey the land With magic blood staining its tip A compass it is held in his grip Telling him where the unicorns lie And using the sight of a magical eye Three he sees two young, and one old To challenge them all, would be very bold But he is ready, he knows he is blest The secret you see, is get them at rest So he waits until the darkness of night Biding his time, and gathering his might He pulls out a box from a pack on his back In it is sand that is magic, and black He opens the box while chanting a spell Part of the words are “gateway to hell” Midnight comes and he is away Holding the box like a floral bouquet He comes upon them all fast asleep Closer he moves and does quietly creep Taking the box held in his hand Quietly chanting to the magical sand Throwing the dust on the sleeping beasts He calls out to hell “come gather your feasts” Out of the box many demons do fly The tearing of flesh as the unicorns cry When the demons are done feasting on soul Back into the box, into hell they do stroll Starting a fire, and cutting a steak From his enemy’s flesh he does partake Picking up the now empty box From the hair of the youngest He fills it with locks By Mr. E. Jones