The Fall of Democracy

Four big buzzards in a sycamore tree, licking their lips while staring down at me, singing please hurry up now old man death. This boy looks done and ready for turning, we’re so hungry that our stomach’s churning, just waiting for him to gasp his last breath. He no longer has sabers to rattle, too weak to survive that one last battle, bring him his sip of water from the Leth. Leth-(Greek mythology) a river in Hades; the souls of the dead had to drink from it, which made them forget all they had done and suffered when they were alive