Death’s Plume


Lovely is your darkness
The blackness of your soul
The beauty of your beak

Never before have I met a bird
Of such degree

The sheen of your plume
Radiates a dark passion
For life
Burning deep into the
Human hearth
Of the weak and weary

The others speak in vain
Of their good deeds
But you speak true
Of pain and misery
Understanding hopes folly
You came knocking
Leaving cracked
Souls shattered and fractured
Beyond repair
Wasting away in some
Dark damp corner
Crying and desperate
For someone
To put an end to the suffering
They endure in the
Landfill of a life they live

To look at you is to
Hear death’s call approaching


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