In the dark night, they come, tiny vampires on silent wings,
seeking the warmth of human blood, their presence felt in the itch that stings.
A buzz, a hum, a fleeting dart, they land with stealth, a needle’s *****,
drawing life with every bite, leaving behind a mark so slick.
Oh, ****** mosquitos, bane of sleep,
your thirst insatiable, your bite so deep.
You dance in shadows, evade the swat,
a relentless foe, a nightly plot.
In the dark, I wage my war,
with claps and slaps, a futile chore.
Yet still you come, relentless, sly,
a tiny terror beneath the sky.
But in the dawn’s first light, you fade,
your reign of night, a brief parade.
And though you leave me marked and sore,
I’ll face you down each night once more.
For in this battle, small but fierce, I’ll find my peace, my sleep, my cheer.
And though you bite, and though you sting, I’ll rise again, a warrior king.