Here Comes The Scarecrow!

That really looked horrible!
Tried to becalm my senses
And the canvas of senses
Nothing did really entice
And it was still horribly seen.

Once,
There laid a carcass
Stock firmed and subdued
How did it grooved
And how did it gropped
It still reverberates.

Now,
This becomes the body
Body of a pious soul
Asking to redeem the lost faith
But,
It still looks like a horribly painted potrait.

Ok,
Why do you need to interpret it
Why do you need to feel it
Why do you really need to see that?

The images that we see ‘horible’
May they be a hundred questions on instinct
May they project a distinct imagery

But,
Still they all look like pirates
Waiting for a crow to squeak
And say:
Ohey…here comes the scarecrow.