secret santa sonnet

Struggle does a crow against the dark winds,
Cry’s loud lonely and shrill for new murder,
Fighting its fury not unlike mankind’s,
Intelligent oily slick tree lurker.

Beady black abyss all_knowing pin eye,
Predicting agony while piercing me,
Suspicious shadows file along my sky,
Only their removal could set one free.

As they disturb my once calm demeanor,
More and more flock to dance in unison,
Mystics coloring my twilight meaner,
Thoughts themes grown somber through evolution.

As the immortal beaks peck from within,
For these night feathered seers know of our sin.


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