Beady human eyes
With a greedy gloss,
Searching the sky,
He's ready for the hunt.
The unfair hunt...
Grey clouds dispersing
The prey comes into sight.
Black silhouette on a pastel sky.
Human aims to the heavens.
Bang! The sound of a gun.
The bullet to the bird,
Falling gracefully in death.
Wings spread wide
To mother earth it glide.
It's spirit forever in the blue sky.
For eternity it will fly.
©Odd
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Just a some what "odd" girl, living in what feels like a glass box. Hello Opuss, the savour of my sanity. my little private world amongst a life of being watched and watching.
There was comfort in the herd, strength in numbers, some would say. We have no need for numbers, for as one we hunt our prey. Across the wide savannah, the herd sweltered in the heat.
A man left his home at the crack of dawn, As did the doe and her new born fawn. Both for the same reason, To nurture their young, Is it a treason. If they don't see it as fun.
#nightdwellers. It gently glides. Not needing to flap. More than once of twice. A minute. Suddenly. It begins to fly. Upward. Higher, higher. Until it reaches. Such a height. That the air is thin.
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