Flight
Arcing high, swooping down, lost in drunken glory
Mother's fears, cast away; now, he's free to create his story
Perhaps he could simply be free, to brave winds and battle rain?
Or become a human-fighter; enlisted in the army to train
Lost in thought, he stares blankly, gliding past miles of land
He then lands softly on the ground, touching down on Florina sand
Then, a faint whistle sounds, and an object rushes by
It barely misses; he freezes in shock, lets loose a cry
Wings a blur, he tries to flee, throwing his life to chance
He hastens his flight, dodging, ducking, engaged in a deadly dance
Crimson suddenly clouds his vision; the gunslinger's hit his mark
Body drifting, his eyes lose sight, as his world slowly turns dark…
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Carrying the carcass, wielding a knife, he carves out its heart
Searching for the prized mesos, he rips its corpse apart
He abandons the body on the ground, its hopes and dreams now lost
He doesn't know, and will never know, the life's actual cost…
Author's Note:
Man, this was a short one. More weird poems about monsters I deem fit to write about are coming, I hope. If that happens, I'll change the title. It can't be 'Flight' for all…
By the way, this was a crow. O-o…