Scarecrow’s Terror (I Am)
In the field of moonlit fright, where shadows dance in eerie light,
A scarecrow, stoic, cold and tall, its presence casting a haunting pall.
Its eyes, two hollow voids of black, draw you in, no turning back,
A sense of dread begins to grow, as your fears it starts to sow.
With every step, each passing hour, the scarecrow’s gaze becomes more sour,
It knows your secrets, holds your fears, whispers softly in your ears.
Through twisted vines and thorny brush, your nightmares in its eerie hush,
An endless stream of chilling scenes, invading all your peaceful dreams.
In the stillness of the night, under the pale moon’s soft light,
The scarecrow’s stare pierces through, revealing all that you once knew.
No escape from its icy glare, no comfort found in midnight air,
Your mind consumed by thoughts unkind, by the shadows left behind.
The fear it breeds takes root and grows, entwined within your very soul,
A grip so tight, a hold so strong, as you wander lost and long.
No respite from the scarecrow’s stare, no reprieve from dark despair,
You’re trapped within its web of dread, by the whispers left unsaid.
So stand amidst the field of dread, where the scarecrow’s hunger’s fed,
In shadows deep and night’s embrace, where fear takes on a darker face.
As moonlit fright engulfs your mind, with shadows looming close behind,
The scarecrow’s stare will never cease, haunting you with chilling ease.
Thus ends the tale of fear and dread, where shadows loom and haunt instead,
In the field of moonlit fright, where the scarecrow bides its endless night.