Young pretty bodies in the night
Nobody can hear their bodies drop
You see it's only night  when the birds
Go to cry  so you can feel the wind behind in each flap of wings
As pretty bodies lie in the night as the moonshines little truth
Beaks  open wide to the sky and screech
no sound is heard that's taken
Young pretty bodies don't move but they do preform until it's to late
Claws scratch flesh  in shadows as last breathes are passed in the middle of the night