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Fiddlesticks

The unmoving crow

Sitting in the dark

Letting the wind blow

Eyes aglow like a burning fire

He rises ever higher

Crows gather around him

Eyes filled to the brim

Hate

The unearthly Scarecrow

With stick legs

His scyth begs, for blood

A ****** of crows follows him

Whereever he goes

Never slows

He stalks you

There is nothing you can do

Fiddles is after you.

Here he comes...

Fiddlesticks

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Written by
ethan-kreman
Published
Oct 15, 2013
Lines·Words
19·70
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