the birds, it begins with them
like a childs game we take our turns
but the cheats they claim to win again
and laugh as they dance just out of reach
on their wings of so called purity
I wait for the tick
where I will have my right
My loathing is untempered
as I strike out with vehement blows
their screams, volatile
tainted silhouettes
against this monochromatic dawn
falling, diving from cliffs edge
escaping as they always do
until I turn their wings to lead
they fall
dismissed are my foe


~ by MandyJenae on February 19, 2011.

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