Out on the bog sits a old shack, A out front and a swamp in the back, The creature who lives there death, She'll curdle your with the smell of her breath, Wrapped up in rags and a old hood, She walks with a made of twisted black wood, A necromancer and caster of curses, She really enjoys putting in hearses. Blessed with a that can drive men insane, A by joke and a sinister brain, Her feet can wallpaper when they're exposed, Gangrene and fungus her toes, She all her evenings creating disease, Conjuring larvae and to please, pupae she constantly breeds, On disinterred bodies suckle and feed A larval sack she did It crawled into a drainage Once it carried on, No one that it was gone. in the sewer this maggot had fun, Eating the was it's job number one, It rodents and left them in tatters, The flesh of the made it all the more fatter, Bones it did crunch and then munched The slimy invertebrate lunched, It's tubular through the sewers did squirm, A limb-ripping, flesh-tearing, worm With palpitating skin in mounds, It made it's way through grounds Seeking the by which it was sustained, The Swamp Hag had maggot very well trained a coffin that was plentifully plugged, The was devoured by the glistening slug, Rot and decay it ingested zeal, As long as it knew that it had a next Feasting on the bloated enveloped foot to head Vomiting acid the crypts To gorge on all the that dripped Tomb tomb it slowly creeped As we watched our food sources It tunneled our practice space And as we moshed the place Into the it escaped It's casing held a human A squalling all set to burst This town has not yet the worst