the moon shapes the shadows,
predatory creatures roam the streets of fright
Foxes screams are heard from afar
cubs hunger a cry of wah
cars rumbling at the concrete road
killing all in their path
creeping along the street that leads into a passage
waiting is the man with a knife
fearful from a life of baggage
‘a peaceful little town’ they say
then not return once they have been away
who is next to be caught in a web
for they cannot go back to living dead
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