Description
Children of the Corn
The fields grew tall out in the Kansas flatlands,
Corn fields ready for harvest, a sinister expanse.
Twas there a creature of the night called Stalk man,
With fires of evil burning in his eye’s trance.
His followers were waifs, unwanted and lost,
Drawn to the whispering rustle of the maize.
Innocence twisted, innocence cost,
They danced to a dark tune in moonlit haze.
Their hymns echoed through rows of green,
A twisted congregation under harvest moon.
He Who Walks Behind the Rows unseen,
Claimed their souls, and they sang their doom.
So beware the cornfields where shadows creep,
For innocence lost lies buried deep.
MidJourney AI Art in the style of Stephen King & Zdzislaw Beksinski
Bing AI Poem
Drawtober#4 - Corn, 4 Oct 2023