The creature of the night

Blackened in it's flight

Those blood red eyes

Those deafening wings

They try to warn us

But will we listen?


The bridge collapsed

The activity relapsed

And the mothman was alive.


They might be frightening

But their warning us

Why must we turn and run?

Right into the problem itself.


Ghosts of the night

A bird, a plane, a thing

It unwillingly gives you a fright

The chills in your spine is tingling.


Monster, monster, in the sky

You try to warn

But why?

Why is that your purpose and goal?


To try and keep us from death

While your attempts hits us like tin foil

We didn't heed your warning

Now look at this mess.


The mothman is a mystery

And part of our history

If only we knew.


Maybe then we wouldn't go askew.