Badgers

Badgers Badgers everywhere 

Flying Badgers in the air

Badgers underneath my bed

The Badgers came, the people fled...

It began upon a Sunday morn

While farmers harvested their corn

The Church bells rang, the people flocked

Unaware their path was blocked

They turned a corner and up ahead

A Badger knaws the vicars head

"The end is nigh" the vicar cried

The Badgers swarmed, the vicar died

The people screaming as they ran

Each one carrying as much as they can

"Flee the village" an old man gasped

The children screamed and ran so fast

The Badgers turned with eyes of fury

But also with joy, satisfaction and glory

The village was empty, no one to be seen

Not a noise in the air, as if there'd never been