Nevermore

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Spring ebb

Wending a way
through the maze of a haze
of thoughts and ambitions
on cold summer days

The buds are announcing
some cycle of doom
that I feel in the aether
but not in my womb

Does the sun think less of me
that I ignore the blush
of pro-recreation
of reasons to touch?

My mind is a Morrigan
three lives but two loves
no room for the mother
when dreams become dust

Birdsong

She took a feather
Ripped it up
To show the birds
Their weakness
The birds replied
With beady eyes
And beaks and claws
And bloody jaws
That skin is so much softer
And easier to tear
Than a single unplucked feather
discarded on the air

A Raven

A raven on a tree branch
Devours the mouldy flesh
Of slain and ravaged burger buns
And processed meat long dead
His world is all of silence
While below we sigh and scream
His needs are few as we discard
More food than he could eat
The raven on the tree branch
Invisible to all
But me as I lie dying
Starved of all that I adore