A vulture to the rescue..
What’s ahead looks obscure.
Ravens nibbling fortitude..
As soul defines solitude.
What is meant to be..
Turns out mayhem.
Spiders crawling benign..
Pointing towards a sign.
The world seems compressed..
In each other’s distress.
A walking stick..
Into the sturdy wall.
Blind folded..
Yet heavily molded.
What is meant to be..
Needs to realize.
What it’s disguise is all about..
Belief is ambiguous..
Self pity is preposterous.
The paws build a grip..
Too cautious to flip.
Ripping open the gut..
Pounces until it’s shut.
Travel past weird..
Begins the land of absurd.


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