Deathbird

A Poem by Cesea

Dreary inspiration

The craving of the deathbird. Indirect and covert. You sneaky little bird. You master of disguise. You are demon, if demons are real. Make me feel insubordinate, inadequate. You thrive on more, more desire. I will shoot myself in the foot repeatedly over you. Next time I will get my direction right. Right in your heart.