The Last Frailty
monstrous sound slashes silence
the bellow of a giant beast,
or the flutter of a thousand wings
elevations and indiscriminate creed will not heed
sinister stirs the mix, the rise of wicked’s extravagance
black feathers flutter and bewilder against the palest frontier
the mock of a starlings flight, the fall in a sparrow’s might
countless sullen wings unfold, to rally their squadrons for show
a mobbing cry meets a redeeming sky,
their rising tones mimic heaven heralding high
contrast to the core, countless black rap-tor destroy
the fading blue sapphire display
a rebel twist in the storm suspends them again, harbingers dawning
a verge of wonder, stands close
the small dark outlines, bask a golden shine
peripheries slight motion, a graceful shimmer
perched as an alert, the slight snap of fingers
a single feather cascades, turning in the elegant dance of a ballerina's descent
laying at the step vaguely pointing to the entrance,
the pride of a black bird,
there is no place for an Omen here,
the last frailty, is my secret near and dear
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
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