In the velvet cloak of night, they take their flight,
Silent wings that slice through darkness, out of sight.
A life lived in shadows, a creature of the dusk,
The bat, a mystic wanderer, in whispers and in hush.
They roost in secret caverns, in treetops tall,
A community of echolocation, a symphony of call.
With furry wings and delicate grace,
They navigate the inky canvas of the starry space.
Invisible to the eye, they hunt with skill and might,
Feasting on insects in the moon's soft light.
Their life a dance of twilight, a nocturnal ballet,
A testament to adaptability in their own unique way.
From dusk till dawn, they soar and swoop,
Invisible heroes in the night, on a secret loop.
A life unseen by many, a creature of the night,
The bat, a symbol of nature's marvel, in perpetual flight.