The Rat’s Tale

In the shadowed corners of the night, Where moonbeams dance and secrets take flight, There dwells a creature, small and sly, With eyes that gleam like stars in the sky.

The rat, oh humble rodent bold, Navigates the labyrinth of old, Its whiskers twitch, its paws so deft, Seeking morsels, weaving life’s thread.

Through cobwebbed alleys, it scampers free, A scavenger of forgotten glee, In city sewers and forgotten nooks, It writes its saga in hidden books.

Its fur, a patchwork of grays and browns, Its tail a rope, its heart unbound, It nibbles on crumbs, a silent feast, A survivor in the urban beast.

And when the moon hangs low and bright, The rat emerges from its twilight, To tell tales of tunnels and secret doors, Of cheese stolen and midnight wars.

So raise a toast to this humble sprite, The rat, the poet of the night, For in its eyes, a universe unfurls, A tiny hero in the grandest of worlds.