Infernal Gleam
From the crumbling edges of twilight, where forgotten horrors breed,Bunnies rise, cloaked in fluff—innocence masking infernal greed.Eyes burn with flickering embers, coals dredged from Hell’s own hearth,Soft paws carry silent death, their soft touch marking doom upon the earth.Their twitching noses catch scent of ruin, whiskers flick with dire intent,Each hop a whisper of apocalypse, signaling how gentle hearts are bent.
History lost count of warnings, brushing off the old wives’ tales,But legends linger, etched in shadows, told by faces drawn and pale.In ancient scripts, the warnings scrawled—a myth dismissed by modern minds,Yet in dim gardens at midnight’s edge, the truth of whispered dread unwinds.Cotton-tailed heralds of calamity bound forth in ominous grace,Transforming peaceful meadows into graveyards—innocent sanctuaries erased.
Each fluffy form a mockery, soft wool concealing wrathful core,A thousand silent murders hidden beneath pelts that children adore.Gardens burn where carrots grew, lettuce wilts beneath their feet,Every twitch, every bound, a ruinous jest, each victory small but sweet.Fields blaze to ash behind them, nature itself turned infernal stage,With gleaming eyes like gateways, portals to some deeper, darker rage.
Where they pass, scorched footprints smolder, earth blistered raw and black,Every dawn bears witness to disaster, hearts heavy, skies cracked.These creatures spin tragedy like a web, delicate as silken thread,Yet strong enough to snare whole towns, leaving only echoes of the dead.Townsfolk mutter prayers unheard, doors barred against what they dismiss,But innocence itself becomes a weapon—no protection from such abyss.
Once, perhaps, mere household pets, or children’s treasured delight,Now twisted, corrupted, bearing torches in darkest night.Their laughter echoes softly—if laughter could drip with pain,A symphony composed by madmen, every note struck sharp, insane.Through forest gloom, across farmlands wide, their conquest swiftly grows,An empire built from fur and fear, where life fades as swiftly as it flows.
In dreams, their eyes flash crimson, haunt memories twisted and raw,The gentlest face, now cruelest, the kindest touch becomes a claw.No amulet deflects them, no ritual wards away the night,For what spell repels cuteness weaponized, turned loose with delight?The fearful cower behind shutters, clutch crosses, utter whispered verse,But no faith has strength enough against bunnies bearing Hell’s own curse.
Their passage whispers a lesson, though grim, important to perceive,That what’s trusted at face value often holds secrets to deceive.In their wake, resolve is sharpened, survivors scarred but grown aware,Learning caution from adorable nightmares cloaked in soft fur and care.In darkness, strength finds tempering, courage born from shattered trust,For only when confronted by hidden horrors does bravery rise robust.
The rabbits claim dominion, but their empire, too, must fall,As legends tell of cycles—how tyrants rise yet lose it all.Someday their soft dominion, built from ash, shall crumble to dust,And eyes that once gleamed red and cruel will fade, corrupted husks.Yet, until then, fields will burn, horizons will blaze anew,For bunnies of the damned run rampant—each night a siege renewed.
So when the twilight lengthens, and shadows twitch beneath the trees,Heed this elegy, learn its lesson, pray you never bend your knees.Guard innocence with caution, never trust too quickly or too much,For beneath sweet smiles and softness waits devastation’s gentle touch.When evil bunnies from Hell’s shadow rise with eyes aglow and wild,Remember well, the greatest threats are cloaked as meek and mild.