Alone in the world, welcoming desolate death.
Complacence and my compliance have led me astray.
Running without direction, nor time to catch breath,
I must flee these volatile verminous birds of prey.
Vultures promising to devour my starvation.
What they intend to fill me with I dread to think.
Their façade of feathers cause me no elation,
for what lies beneath is blacker than ink
They try to coo to me, but let off raucous caws.
I won’t be tempted by such hideous voices.
I have kept myself too clean to now befoul my paws.
These hands will be steady and make the right choices.
Sand gets stuck in my throat, but I will not cry for aid,
I don’t want their unabashed beaks pecking my tongue.
In their designer talons they carry a blade
I’d rather die with morals than live to be wrong.
They all circle and ask me to climb on their wings,
undoubtedly so they could take me to their nest
and they don’t blink a soulless eye at such uncouth things;
they’re too busy touting themselves, flouting their breast
Where is my noble eagle to show me support
and keep away these vultures from eating my skin?
Her splendorous wingspan will blow away their thoughts
and allow my escape from the desert to begin.
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