I'm a raven with dulled down talons  
unable to catch a meal: I starve and thin
my harsh black feathers turn light as they fall from my grayed skin.
Finally
a meal fit for a king but served to all
I lick the blood caked around my beak
but old blood tastes bleak
Ahead of Ensuing havoc on the broken skin I once again become too thin
a fallen soldier
might as well be a feather
hell and hell and gone forever