The Death that yields

As the Heavenly sky bleeds its blood drops upon the streets and roof tops the flooded fields yield its bloody crops. As each bird of prey upon the ground now lays and all cattle become found drowned every which way the stench of death with each breath is in an array.

As the black sky forever lacks its luminous blue sight so too the long way from night or more an unsure day. With urban yells echoing of suburban Hells chaos is the cost of lost screams never heard as only the crows know their words as they circle on wards.

As the crows encircle death and decay feasting upon bodies where they may lay. Picking at their bloody flesh they continue too feed with each peck and tare forever bled until each need is fed as their will too kill will not reseed.

As the crows caw the nature of woes death within the wind slowly blows the north in thru east by deaths breath of those he chose.

Deep within the Death fields life left from its death that yields the last breath of man forever damned through the crows who rose up into the sky as the storm has now chose its new form.