What would you see if the world flipped round?
Would the wall come crashing down?
Or could the sky fall down in shame?
At the loathing destructive game.

Under, Under the monster calls.
Writhing for the small foot falls.
Flashing teeth of molten red.
Would would save the victims head?

Once again he rumbles on,
Still the watchers pass along,
Dreading once a sniveled cry,
The little shrieks, no more like whines.

Above it watches for glorious meal.
A final scream and snap and peal.
Once running scared the little feet.
Revel in the devils defeat.

Under, Under the stories go,
With fright, sorrow, and doom below.
But mighty mighty is the strife.
Now go and save just one more life.