Crows swarmed over Bourbon Street tonight.
Blotting out the moon through synchronized flight.
They plummeted down and out of sight.
Blanketed by the cover of night.

A jewelry box gets picked clean.
It belonged to a formerly wealthy teen.

A town terrorized by birds.
They’re all at a loss for words.

Within a week, every household had been robbed.
Mementos lost: people sobbed.
Woeful over trinkets taken.
Believing their eyes to be mistaken.

Men ran at the birds with loaded guns.
As the flock attacked, they got the runs.

Not before pushing them across state lines.
Where they **** upon passing signs.

Down a road long and winding
They plucked up everything shinning.

Forced back to the home they knew.
Housing everything that belonged to you.
The birds held for their final stand.
Exactly as their master planned.

Dive bomb from the sky.
Pluck out a wayward eye.

The force of an army had been pushed back.
All remaining birds formed a pack.
Flew home to their pied piper.
A man who was a retired army ******.

His lair was filled with gold and jewels.
Packed into sacks on dehydrated mules.

With everything stored.
The man stood before the hoard.

He spoke a few kind words.
To the flock of birds.
Then set fire to the room.
Culminating in a nitrogen…boom.

With no evidence in sight,
Or witnesses accounting for the plight.
The man moved on without a fight.
Staring at his earnings in a new days light.