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