The Long Exhausting Life of a Vulture

I am a bird of prey,
Knowing only two things: to fly and to feed,
There is not much else to say,
Abiding to a cycle of search, eat and breed,
The same, every day
What more is there that I need?

For humans, it is difficult,
But when there is a war,
They’ve lost, knowing it’s their own fault,
But I continue to soar.

To me, they are no more than meat,

I should be content not to die,
While their corpses are littered in the street,
My own kind flourish in the sky

Surely, they are just like me,
So why am I filled with disgust?
Food, like them, is all I see,
Their next victim is seen in the dust,
Although this is no body,
However, it’s still what they lust.

The human is alive,
Albeit, on their last strand of life,
Someone must take a dive,
So they don’t yet feel the sharp scythe.

If they are as good as dead,
It shouldn’t be left to rot,
We should be fed,
As long as it’s not for nought.

As they drew toward the child,
I feel I want to cradle the thing,
They were so wild,
That something tugged at my heart string.

Every instinct I have installed in my body
Is aching,
I didn’t think this feeling was a possibility,
My very being is the very thing I’m contradicting,
As I flew to she,
And perched my body next to hers, in the warmth under my wing.

I gave the heat,
That no one showed the compassion to,
I gathered our food with my crows feet,
I did whatever I could possibly do.

She had no life nor a name,
She’s only known war and struggle,
It was such a shame,
She didn’t look like food because I was full.

I’m the only one to show any kindness,
The truth is kind of sick,
But better than nothing in this mess,
Everything, like it happened, was too quick.

The disgusted glares of my brothers as they looked over me,
My emotion was not invited by them,
But I couldn’t leave her be,
I would much rather be the one to face the condemn.

They would often taunt me,
However I wouldn’t shake,
Even when they used their long claws to bully,
And then my wings would break.

I would limp to the river,
My spirit still not be crushed,
But my frail body would still shiver,
These moments away from her was the only times I was fussed

It would hurt not having a home,
But watching her age,
Seeing her able to roam,
It was like a book turning another page.

When I saw that she lived for her,
No amount of grief would take away that joy,
Therefore when I left bloody trails further,
I could only play coy.

She began to look over us,
When I was completely wrecked,
She never kicked up a fuss,
It was almost perfect.

But everything changed when the hunters came,
They damaged my beautiful home,
It was such a shame,
That once again I was left to roam.

They burnt the forest,
Killed for sport,
Truly becoming a pest,
Like the ones the fought.

My loathing for them was intolerable,
But she became infatuated with these fools,
Once upon a time her eyes were dull,
but they sparkled upon seeing these animals

She watched them from afar for a long time,
Until those tyrants took her away,
It was really the greatest crime,
And for that they shall pay.

For her I left the place I call home,
Yet she could not do the same,
I was left alone,
Most definitely lame.

By this time the war was long past,
The humans have entered a golden age,
But every other being had to run fast,
Away from the humans rage.

We were not so lucky, not allowed to rest,
We are hunted, running,
Barely alive at best,
We are homeless again — left with nothing.

Many of my brothers since thenhave passed,
I always thought their spirits have been starved,
But as I go past the place I once called home, which will be the last,
I see that they have nests of children, in their spirits are their parents carved.

Not hungry,
They scoured for them when push came to shove,
And the truth that I couldn’t see,
Was to provide for the ones that they love.

It has dawned that I’m the one who is pathetic,
They were not monsters — they did what they must,
I felt sick,
Left by myself in the dust.

The humans did what they did not for survival,
But for entertainment,
Just like an animal,
I raised the monster I was sent.

As I flew to find food,
I had no purpose,
So for me to still try to survive was albeit kind of crude,
But I’ve lived for less.

Now that I had nothing, not drive or even energy,
I truly believed this to be my ending,
Until a woman with her resemblance uncanny,
Had approached me, and upon her seeing.

She grabbed her bloodied knife,
And granted me a corpse,
I did what I did best in my life,
And fed of the poor creature as my mind warps.

She patted my head,
And spent time until I could fly,
Said she was glad I wasn’t dead,
And when she parted with me, she did genuinely cry.

Seeing her children and her family,
With her own happiness,
It made me smile and I didn’t know I could be so sappy,
I’m glad, I must confess.

And it was like the beginning, my life on repeat,
She left food out,
Happy, full and complete,
But why did I feel still some doubt?

It got all too familiar when she got ill,
She became skinny once more,
I watched from the windowsill,
When everyone would come through the door.

Unable to walk,
What was left was skin and bones in a pile,
No more could she couldn’t talk,
Or even smile .

They carried out a party upon her death,
Wearing all black,
As I let out a breath,
Watching them crowded as a pack.

They were completely disgusting,
As I felt moisture run down my face,
It was somehow touching,
That I wasn’t, as I always believed, a lost case.

As they screamed and blubbered,
I still watched from the fence,
And joined as they mourned,
Her beautiful existence.

I wasn’t just watching,
I participated,
As we celebrated her living,
and this day that was fated.

I stayed,
Watching her I let out a cry,
There was still a happy face even in the dirt where she was laid,
Now was the time I could finally say goodbye.

Doing what I couldn’t do those years,
Because of the pity I felt before,
But now as she grew and overcoming those fears,
I devoured begging for more,

Tears that I didn’t think I was capable of still flowed,
It was intoxicating,
I ate and I was full once again in the cold,
I had taken away what was left of her being,

Now it was truly over.

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I Guess This Is My Life Now

Eyes fluttering open before dawn,

Continuing the endeavour till way after dusk,

I sometimes forget what that fire looks like,

How much it burns,

It’s so odd how the memories feel so distant,

What if this isn’t the life I wanted?

 

 

But am I

smart enough

strong enough

bothered enough

to break out this perpetual circle of disdain and futility

Waking Up From A Nightmare

The long exasperated gasp from air,

Followed by the hyperventilating,

The moisture from your forehead and on the side of your eye a singular tear,

As you burrow further into the sheets the flood from your eyes are just beginning,

The lines between reality and fiction are blurred before the first light,

The nightmares may not be real,

But the tears, sweat, fear all cloud your sight,

And the fear is the truest existence you feel.

So in the end you wipe your eyes,

And whatever is coming from your nose,

Just to lay back waiting for sunrise,

Remembering why you no longer wish for dreams.

October Writing Challenge: Day 17

“Hold fast to dreams 

For if dreams die 

Life is like a broken-winged bird 

That cannot fly.”

-Langston Hughes 

It might seem like such a cliche. Don’t give up persevere, blah. But to me, it’s so poetic, immediately when I read this I see the imagery of it. It’s so short yet so descriptive. 

It’s fairly straight forward, Hughes says that we must hold on to our dreams. If we do not then life is as about futile as bird without flight. A bird who is physically pained trying to do what is meant to do. That is the same as a person, without dreaming there is no meaning. It’s in our nature to dream, we get so down on ourselves without dreams. 

I guess there are the exceptions similar to a flightless bird. But even as a pessimist, a person will always end up dreaming otherwise we will get nothing done. 

It’s simple yet effective.

The 30-Day Writing Challenge: Day 13

The pain was excruciating

More so than any normal pain

Really, it was the contrast which was agonising

Initially there was no aching at all

Simply a dull sensation at the very least

But after seeing the first drop of the dense ruby fluid

Released from the wound

I felt it

And it was unbearable

A prolonged stabbing

Just continuing as I have to bear the never-ending torture.

 

Day 13: Think of the worst pain you’ve ever felt. Now give your protagonist a paper cut and over-exaggerate the pain using your own descriptions.

A Kiss Goodbye

The dark abyss that forever haunts me

Staring deep into the soul i no longer own

Begging for a kiss to be the key

Another body on a loan
I just continue to float

The life not so bright 

With the words neither said or wrote

I will go down before the fight
The battle that shall never be won

When it should be eternal 

But really it is done 

The loss is final.

Shadow

I wasn’t a happy child
This didn’t particularly bother me
Never did it make me go wild
Instead I felt somehow free
In all my never ending loneliness

My parents did no wrong in my upbringing
I was just weird
An anomaly or something
Other kids thought of me to be feared
So I never made a single friend

Not until I was nine
I noticed that she followed me for a while
I quickly claimed her as mine
My only friend who was always within a mile
We immediately took a liking to each other

My parents never took a liking like I did
But I think I loved her
She was a weird kid
Like me, we fit together
She was stranger and darker but that didn’t matter, not to me

I really needed her at night
When my parents used to fight
And tell me everything was gonna be alright
So I prayed she would be there with all my might
But she never did appear

For years we grew up by each other’s side
Her company was all I needed
Until she died
Or maybe she was alive
But she would never leave without saying goodbye

I miss her
I’ve made countless more friends
And a string of lovers
But no one meant anything compared to her
I miss my loneliness

Sometimes when I’m walking to work
Through the empty streets
Sometimes busy
I never notice anymore
But sometimes I swear from the corner of my eye that I see her

Lurking behind me that that shadowy figure
That I miss, I still miss her

Goodbye A Levels

All my bitter memories
Taken by one black bin bag
A heavy burden of sadness and nostalgia
Ripping through these bags

They are gone
These memories are not yet forgotten

All those years
Filled with drawings
Writings
Pictures

My memories

Will never leave

Because they are no longer bitter
They are sweet

I regret nothing