Veiled Minions
Shards of rag
Torn from the reapers cloak
Tattered and blowing upon dead branches
I wearily cross underneath
Far below definition
Whilst dark eyes follow
My silent steppings
Glaring down obsidian bills
The tree erupts
A formless black detonation
Of ravens wailing their curses
At my approach
For disturbing their ritual of dusk
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