I want to write about her,
But she lives in other dimensions,
Beyond what I perceive,
She soars high above this plane,
Searching for prey to feed upon,
Occasionally,
She swoops down,
When voracious hunger demands,
To find sustenance in bewildered and beleaguered and lost lambs,
Bleating going unheard and unrecognized cries,
She carries them aloft,
Like the lammergeir,
Dropping their bones,
On the rocks below,
To crack and expose the marrow,
Of which she sustains herself,
A devil indeed from above,
Yet for her flight,
I am envious,
And willingly give into night.