Ghost calls, back and forth, soft, long, low,
Orchestrate the night for hunting,
Pass the signals to and fro.
Soft wings cut the darkness, swoop, bank, glide,
No sound mars your movement
Go now, creatures! Run and hide!
Shrill! Shriek! Sharpest talons, digging, plucking. Caught!
In a breath the hunt is over.
No way out! That lesson’s taught.
Black night is your canvas. Blood your paint of choice,
Long before they leave their mothers
Many learn to fear your voice.
Ghost calls, back and forth, soft long, low.
Beauty wears a deathly palour,
To the hearts that beat below.