Under the cover of some other, 

As the thunder roars. 

Waiting patiently for the beast to slumber, 

Us commoners wait like hares, 

With the barn owl waiting unseen. 

Not a single blunder, 

No words we mutter, 

Lest we face the wrath of the beast. 

Like a mare with a leg with a fracture. 

Waiting to be put under. 

We wait for our founders, 

To save us from the beast. 

We meander through our lives, 

Waiting for the strike, 

Then the ever present ever there thunder.