Thursday, March 11, 2010

Unsaved Souls

Dancing prairie wolves
Float into the air,
And I stare
At their incandescent beauty;
They soar into the sky,
Gray and cloudy,
Searching for their prey,
Surrounding our head 
They spot a target,
A lost soul up above,
Alone and exposed;
They prepare to attack 
Slyly and precisely,
Attacking her from behind
The first bite is a catch,
Their golden teeth sink deeply inside,
Viciously tear her apart;
A grand spectacle of survival,
Thanked by a solemn tear,
The meal is devoured.  

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