A cruel caper, It beats for you - It bleeds for you It knows not how it sounds For it is the drum of drums It is the song of songs..., Release the bats. release the bats don't tell me that it doesn't hurt. a hundred fluttering in your skirt
There’s something ancient showing its shade when this creature runs. A crazed capriole, a diabolical dance – razor sharp incisors darting your way.
Interesting to know, however yet again man forces nature to do his will in a manner that is unsavoury – I find it rather cruel to have the wee beastie running upon a treadmill.