Carrion

Our love I thought
Was iron wrought.
I swish and sway,
Vultures at bay.

Its at its peak,
Climax so sweet.
A sudden end
And bitter trend.

No more, no less
Birds don't impress.
Carcass of hope
And misanthrope.

Four, four, sixteen
Sanity's sly gleam.
Take out the trash,
Be unabashed.

Sing like a spell
A soft, light quell.
The dead don't speak
Neither do sheep.

As the flies graze
On flesh of days,
Please shed a tear
For all the years.