#WritcoPoemChallenge
The sound of the stadium's roar,
Resonates with every four,
Down the pitch,
Over the arm,
Cricket has its own charm
And with the cool of the night
Comes the gentle steps
They're coming aren't they?
But who they are
Aren't Gods
Creeping and howling
The owls will hoot
For the evils of the night
Begin their dark pursuit
Drums of sorrow
And endless reproof
The blood of ten men
Shall be spilled at midnight
Croaking and lurking
And singing a sad song
Even the frogs and birds
Know that their...