The Corn Still Lives

Dried up withered stalks of harvest golden kernels
The screech of the owl as it sweeps down to clench a field rat
Sqealing for it’s life dripping dark red blood onto the corn
Legend of the scarecrow that demonized the fields 
As it ate the dry corn and the fold turned into a graveyard 
Where the old would be taken and their corpse hungry be eaten 
Living dead zombies that would capture the children each Halloween
And so the corn reaped the souls of the night of the dead
Listen to the corn as it is still alive
The hands of the damned pushes up from the roots where they shall eat their meal
Listen carefully and you will hear them mourn
The corn lusts for desire upon the broken limbs of the unseen