The Birds And The Beast

The swan swoops
With the exaltation of grace
Upon prey to the wand that wounds
When the raven is overlooked
And a dove presumes its place
Follow the vulture and feed from the night
With the repulsively depraved
Dancing disguised
Where the owl watches the world descend
To the fate of foul culture, pride of the den

The crow sleeps
While the crane is sold and sacrificed
For superficial gain
Under its own prejudicial rite
And the wren weeps as the song leaves
In echoes of laconic flight
While the beak of a peacock bellows
With a crest upon the crown erect
For pleasure is the prize

The hawks that have deserted
Have now begun to encircle
In a nightingale harbinger
On a night of yearning
But without love, what loss, more
Could there be in death
When the loss to die for is hope
And hope, all that was known
Until it drained from the heron's breath

The sparrow secures shelter
In the shadow of a treacherous sky
Before venturing to stand
In shallow water, the altar
To cleanse external flight
Fledge from pretentious love
And the plume's alluring leer, above
On the perch of circumspection
Let it be your peerless guide

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