Vulture's Tale

This poem was inspired by a sight I viewed on my daily drive to work. A buzzard lay dead by the side of the road. I couldn't help but think of the irony of a buzzard being road kill. I know that is gross, but it also seemed poetic, so here is my poem.

Carrion bird with ebony wings

Of old the symbol of darker things

Predator to the dead and dying

Your calloused heart spares not for crying

                                      

                                       O Wretched fowl with forboding presence

                                       Whose very being reaks of evil's essence

                                       You who feeds of the weakness of men

                                       You dark bird who exploits their sin

 

The smell of corruption lies in your breath

You fowl being the herald of death

All who look upon you begin to despair

But you wicked bird surely do not care

                                

                                How often have you savored the death of others

                                You fel being who pains the hearts of mothers

                                Old or young made no difference to you

                                Your only loyalty to your belly be true

 

Oh blackened fowl of cruelty you fed

You devil bird with beak crimson red

Stained wih the blood of the innocent and naive

Your wicked heart for them does not grieve

                               

                                 Now who for you will shed a tear

                                As death causes your heart to fear

                                For mortally wounded you lay on the ground

                                And  all of your brethren are gathering round

 

You look above as they begin the dance

Slowly circling now you haven't a chance

You call unto them asking for aid

In your voice they hear you are afraid

 

                             None moves to aid you, they simply stare

                             Unwilling to hear a scavenger's prayer

                             Lower now your brethren are flying

                            Slowly descending toward your crying

 

Then in a shrieking frightful plunge 

A brother's talons into your eyes lunge

Blinded and bleeding now a banquet you are

To feed your brethren who have come from afar

                        

                        You hear the shrieks of your descending tribe

                        And you know you can offer them no bribe. 

                       Upon your flesh they have begun to feast

                       And none are sorrowful not in the least

 

Now your judgement stands complete

You once fed of carrion now you too are meat

In death your entrails fed all of your friends

Now you have shared of your victims' bitter ends.

        

                      

 

                                  

 

Author's Note

I hope you all enjoyed this unusual piece!

Reviews

[IPMONER]

im pretty sure you worked hard for the poem, its quite long and usually the problem with long poem is you tend to disregard those lines that you think needs some revisions or improvement. but over-all i guess the poem is very evocative and images and similes were astounding.
another thing i have observed is you tend yo go back to those ideas you had mention in the first lines of the poem making some emphasis redundant.

[Elizabeth Boughner]

This literally left me speachless.
It was just amazing.
You did a really grat job. =]

[Shanna (Renae)]

Okay. Wow. This is kind of scary. A frightful tale that could be turned into a metaphor addressing the way some people seem to thrive on the misfortune of others.

"All who look upon you begin to despair
But you wicked bird surely do not care"
This is the one line that could still use a little work. The rhythm isn't quite right.

A well done piece and your rhymes are excellent. Not cliched in the least.