Feb 17, 2013 13:32
I fly by the crow's wing.
Cold and cruel by some accounts.
Eternally looking for another way.
The crow and I,
We fly.
The viscera of life
Provides for consistency,
The search for another spiritual meal.
Meat beats the man.
We fly.
A roost to be found
is a gift unto oneself.
Never land unless you are solidly set.
I've found a perch.
We land.
I'm sent.