Melanie Samuel Poet I do not know?

Fate of Death

The ruffling of feathers,
And the snap of a beak,
The quick tempered woman,
Jumped back to her feet.
She soars over water,
Looking sharp for her prey,
With one on little movement,
She sees where it lays.
Down like a bomb,
She dives under waves,
She catches a fish,
Sends him to his grave.
She gobbles him up,
Like a wolf on a rabbit,
But his friends from the sea,
Just wouldn’t have it.
They jumped up to the sun,
And drug her to her fate,
Drown her in the water,
Where she caught her bait.
Now there is no reason to be afraid,
Of that quick tempered woman,
She is swimming with the fishes,
She got what was her fate.

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