Cockroach Dance

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.