Roving, buzzing, from pond to puddle
Looking for blood to dine,
Its scent must’ve gotten you all in muddle
For you chose to feast on mine.
Not that I put up much of a fight
Your sting I didn’t much mind,
I could have forgiven your vicious bite
If you hadn’t left vivax behind.
My nights were spent in feverish shivering
Days hoping, may night never fall,
I wondered, how comes, as I lay quivering
Such pain, from something so small.
Two weeks I’ve known you, to the date
Can’t say it’s been a pleasure,
Your name will stir up seething hate
And fear in equal measure.
In a week or two you will meet your end
Like the rest of your kind I loathe
Know that I’m already on the mend
For I am the stronger of us both.
* * *