Northward Bound
Death shadows, furious, frenzied, fought
Waiting for this wretched soul to rot
They redeemed me, tortured me, ceasing not
Crows perch upon my severed breast
Picking at the insipid flesh
Vultures of glee coo and ratify my rest
Love pierces my heart that is dead
Maddening my severed head
Feeding ones engorged instead
Deprived and empty of soul within
My ribcage grows bare and thin
Eaten away by my own cruel kin
Skeleton bare and scorned
Fowl breasts of youth unadorned
Cascaded in grotesque glory, basked and ever-mourned
I fly! Hovering over my body too weak
As tears fall down my hungry beak
Let me fly north toward winter so bleak!
The tears freeze on my cold bones
In the dark snow that blackens, I grow old
As wind, birds and corpses forever moan
Homeward north I fly…I feed
I, the coal-beaked corpse still need
To roam…to rot…to unremittingly greed
I am shadow, vulture, corpse, woman—all in one
Feeding on my own meat, enriching everyone
Absent of my own skin, the pain has just begun
For Justin Bordner's Death Shadow contest
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011
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