A Creepy Sinister

Hunting for a red,
Longing for a sweet crimson,
The moon strolls across the sky,
As the red night lens past the earth,
Searching for a fresh flesh to devour.

A wander mission it is,
As death tours for the living,
The sun cries as the candle is left behind
Preparing to illuminate the world,

As the living drinks from the red oceans,
Death casts a muddy spell from the graves
Ready to tangle a dying fish!