POEM: Horde Swarm Revolution

This horde had huddled down in the alley.
Past hordes had hid to overlook valleys,
but bucolic hordes are a beast long past.
The valleys, farms, and fields are too vast.

Like roaches hide in walls, they need tight spaces.
Unidentifiable by faces —
they’re only known en masse, not à la carte.
They’ve many chests, but just one beating heart.

I’ve heard it said, they eat both girls and boys,
and that they spit out bits of clothes and toys.
But that may be a horde-hating rumor,
like that they grow together into one tumor.

2 thoughts on “POEM: Horde Swarm Revolution

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