I could tell you of numberless beasts,
My voice could be a bestiary,
Of sirens and goblins and demons,
Of dragons and gryphons on the wing,
But instead I speak of a creature not of nobility,
But cruelty given wings,
Sadism in the sky,

You’d be forgiven for believing it a vulture,
An unkempt avian with a fair maidens gaze,
Perched atop the expired skeletons of trees,
Indeed it is a glutton for mens hearts,
Both symbolically and physically,
She will gladly carouse with you,
Winning your heart before plucking it clean with talons,

Beware the harpy,
For the nectar she offers is bile,
The words she speaks are barely contained storms,
Her kind have scavenged for eons,
Leaving legions of hoplite bones behind,
Curiously graceful in their barbarity,
Flight wasted on cruelty.

Comments
  1. Carol anne says:

    Brilliant! ❤ ❤ Well done! Loved this!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s