The night had come and it was dark,
leaves would rustle and dogs would bark.
Some were eating their steals of day,
some were busy finding a good spot grey.
The dark liquid flowed for baloney,
it was just any other day at the colony.
Then came the dreadful smell of pain,
the breeze reeked of that deadly rain.
Soon there was fear of losing life,
and sooner everybody was back to their strife.
Some went to get hay to stick onto,
some watched as their stock piles grew.
Some ran off madly onto the highway,
some were just idle while some would pray.
Finally came the rain and thunder,
ever together, neither God could put asunder.
The life ran in chaos, thefts and stealth,
ways may be many to drink good health.
Some fools just stood out in resistance,
lost in a blind faith, lost in trance.
Survived a few that learned to adapt,
and ones who had come to a new nature pact.
Happy were only those who knew joy,
loved inside the mind, neither food nor toy.
Some of them who found a safe place,
cleaned their antennae in style and grace.
Some of them sat patiently for the end,
to new levels of life, they await to descend.
Some died for they moved without change,
losing their family was not strange.
Given to instinct and sucked by thirst,
greedy were all the ones who died.
Life resumed in cockroach colony again,
rain passed by leaving pools, no stains.
The wheels in motion, not seen was the dent,
for everyone who survived was independent.