Oh what an overcast morn! And oh how
it causes my heart to bleed out as I
watch a black bird float alone in the sky
ever so slowly on currents of air.
Yearning to cry out in warning of mind,
“swiftly take flight, o spirit befeathered
fly ‘pon the wind ‘cross the dome of the sky,
take leave of this place, of this most ruinous life.”
I utter no sound, and not even a
thought do I spare from my mind, but instead
hold guarded my tongue, e’en as this black beast
holds my eye with its own, catching my mind
and locking my soul in a battle most
desperate, trapped in a struggle between
the gaze of beast and loss of the real.
And as he flies off, I sink to the ground. Broken.