You can taste the fear and smell the sweat and the noise of the wails burns your ears and yet
The sight of the Red Lemming’s annual jump, is something that you will never forget.
The fear and loathing are strong enough to taste , and blood flowed crimson in the sea below.
One by one they jumped to their death. Every now and then one would miraculously turned into Crow.
Death was relaxing on the sea shore , warming his bones in the moon’s pale light
His ghastly death mask fixed in a maniacal grin as he counted the bones and begrudging the escapees who became crows and took flight!
willowdot21 
