Worms

[tgwbs]

There are the lesser worms and there are the great;
The lesser we love, the greater we hate.
The lesser live low underground and come up in the rain;
Delighting in the water, yet when it passes they remain.
While it is still wet they stay above ground
But by the light of the sun are betrayed and so found.
With a flurry of feathers we swoop and we cry;
By their lifeblood we live, but they are doomed to die.
Wretched creatures are they, without sound or sight,
No legs to walk nor wings for flight,
It is their joy to consume what it dead.
We find it good to eat them instead.
Yet the sun that shows them is disloyal
For while we pluck the lesser from the soil
It warms the blood of the greater
Who come upon us little later
At unawares, for they are silent
Creeping creatures skilled in the hunt.
With many senses they spy their prey
And swiftly come and bite and slay
With poisoned tooth. Their eyes are fierce;
Their armoured plates we cannot pierce.
We flail and curse and know the end is nigh;
We succumb, cold breath takes us, and so we die.
There are the lesser worms and there are the great;
The lesser sate us, the greater we sate.