In shadowed corners, where moonlight fears to tread,
A silent ballet, a scuttling dread.
Cockroaches gather, a writhing mass,
Antennas twitching, a morbid class.
No music plays, no graceful form,
Just twitching limbs in a silent storm.
They tap and scrape on the dusty floor,
A macabre rhythm, wanting more.
With glistening backs and beady eyes,
They spin and turn, a dark surprise.
No joy in movement, just primal urge,
To survive the night, a hungry surge.
They twist and contort, grotesque display,
A parody of dance, in their own dark way.
A primal ritual, a hidden plight,
Of creatures shunned, bathed in endless night.
The city sleeps, oblivious to the sight,
Of this grotesque ballet, beneath the fading light.
A dance of shadows, a chilling display,
The cockroach dance, where nightmares play.
About the Creator
Moharif Yulianto
a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook
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