The Bat

A creature

dark as night

speaks no word

but like a bird

is swift in flight

 

No fiendish plot

be on its mind

although entwined

with death and rot

 

It seeks its place

in damp and dark

in black embarks

to hide its face

from those who feign

and hide in terror

though in error

and in vain

 

For though it seems

an evil thing

at night it sings

songs one deems

as silent prayers

that echo back

to ears that don't lack

to make arrears

 

And hiding deep

hung upside down

smile to a frown

it goes to sleep