Sensing death,
The buzzards gather —
Noting the last struggle
Of flesh under weather,
Noting the last glance
Of agonized eye
At passing wind
And boundless sky.
Reading Time: < 1 minute
Dying Beast
Poem
Sensing death,
The buzzards gather —
Noting the last struggle
Of flesh under weather,
Noting the last glance
Of agonized eye
At passing wind
And boundless sky.
