The Quandary of Dichotomy

What can I be, so colorful? Who flies both day and night? How can I be so colorful? A predator in flight. I have chosen so it seems, to vie with God on high, to decide with anonymity, who will live or die. Mindlessly, with disregard for grace or soul or power; Down I swoop without surcease; all mankind to devour. I had a choice but not a quest to live or die or dream; to work for higher consciousness or continue with the scheme. As I landed on man’s wrist my tasseled talons grasp; the henchman’s hood descended as it past my eyes, he gasped. Another day, another time, perhaps, I’d chose the dream. For the moment of this time I’m locked within man’s scheme. A play off Keith Bickerstaff’s “Higher Good”