Ye Old CrowMurder perched on a steel bar,
claws firmly etched into metal.
Deathly eyes gaze afar,
black plumage imitates the Devil.
Dull sleek feathers hide,
delightfully wicked grim thoughts.
Prey appears and it must glide,
twilight comes and so it assaults.
Emotional carnage rips through hollow ribcage,
tearing the wind with each beat.
Eyes fueled with old rage,
this Old Crow must eat!
Feasting upon the dead,
twas alive once, no more no more.
Deep in the carcass it buries its head,
distant thunder trembles the shore.
Black plumage imitates the Devil,
glee with filling itself with gluttony.
A fallen bloody red Angel,
lustfully proud with envy.
December 2012, Wednesday
Trublood 26-30, M 2 Dec 18, 2012