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Catapulting Carcasses
In the dead of night, the stench of blood�s in the breeze
I gallop horse backed with a sack of goodies
Bloodies road kill is my artillery
My arsenal grows as I pick the bodies from the street.
Come to me, my pulverized pussycat.
The pale moonlight reveals where the corpses are;
Poor woodland animals laid waste by a car
I peel up a puppy; I scoop up a squirrel,
The flag of the beasts I hold unfurled.
Fear not rodents great and small,
I shall avenge the deaths of you all!
When my pouch bulges to the brim with dead,
I gallop toward the city so my babies can be fed.
I�ll blitz the whole city and be out by dawn
My furry brethren gather to cheer me on.
Soon we reach the city where the smog is thick
As a necromancer I perform a little magic.
I reach into the bag to reanimate a possum,
Then chuck it through a window and await a scream to come.
The little rascal scurried up the stairs real fast,
And devoured a suckling baby before his mother could even gasp.
Dismounting the stallion, I let out a �GUREHH,�
And empty the deadites onto the street.
A wave of my hand, and a sprinkle of dust,
And the rodents awaken, hungry for meat.
How darling those beady, watering eyes
That foam on the mouth, so debonair.
Alluring the stench, attracting the flies,
And what be better than blood soaked hair?
These are the vehicles of pestilence,
Crawling from house to house in this sleepy town.
Barging into windows, plummeting down chimneys,
Burrowing through sheetrock, and inching through plumbing.
But you�ll not hear a peep,
better to remain snuggled in blankets and fast asleep.
So sleep, sleep, death comes quickly to diligent sheep.
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