Crows On A Wire

[Guest guest]

P: Very nice! First poem of yours

I liked.

 

Crows eating carrion,

Butterflies drinking dew.

Both, just This.

 

To discriminate, to blame,

to praise is to fall into

a hell of your own making.

Where devils will torture,

and angels will sooth you,

only so you will feel pain

again, in its cruel healing purity.

 

NNB

 

If the shoe fits.....

 

Crows on a wire

 

They perch inside the Nisargardatta group

Like crows on a wire,

Waiting for fresh meat to arrive,

Helpless, vulnerable and unsuspecting.

 

Parading with good intentions,

They wait until the victim

Opens his heart, then the sharp beaks

Start pecking at the soft tender meat.

They depend on the victim to be shocked

At the attack,

And suspend his own defenses

Until it is too late.

 

Like Sarah,

Pecked to death when she arrived,

Innocent and unsuspecting,

They crowded in,

Drawn by the smell of blood,

And the heat of unsuspecting flesh.

Mercilessly, they leapt into the feast,

First one vicious snap and then another,

Devouring her sweet innocence,

With self-pleasure and smirks

At their petty power and trickery.

Each word has a sharp edge,

And the blades did their work quickly,

 

She lay ravaged and beaten is a few moments.

Laying there, eyes wide open,

In psychic death,

Bleeding,

Quiet,

Still.

 

Click!

 

 

Larry Epston

www.epston.com