Raven
Black. Clipped. Memory of flesh
heaving to my beak’s yanks
and gashes. Calculated wide
wings once circled an eternal
festival of gore and entrails.
Patient. Deliberate. Men
kill. Ravens fall. Men rise.
We drop. Snatch an ascent
colored crimson. Mud dark
against turquoise sky. Skimming
the end of empires.
Hear me?
heaving to my beak’s yanks
and gashes. Calculated wide
wings once circled an eternal
festival of gore and entrails.
Patient. Deliberate. Men
kill. Ravens fall. Men rise.
We drop. Snatch an ascent
colored crimson. Mud dark
against turquoise sky. Skimming
the end of empires.
Hear me?
Comments
You know you be writing. What's up with the "Blacks" in England? Why they be hatin'?
Treasure