If one is hunting demons,
Look no further than the filthy mosquito,
That most hated of creations,
They are vermin on buzzing wings,
Employing their odious bayonets,
Sucking the vitae from all,
Trading it for disease and malady,
A truly foul trade arrangement,
These winged hussars of ill health,
They never sleep,
While man overtly cracks the planet,
They are waging a secret war,
A war on all healthy life.
