All walks cease their leisure
Hanging over my head
During the stroke of midnight that comes every hour
Fluttering of wings,
I know there are no angles hanging above
Because I can feel the calculating glare, always
Little beasts that join me across oceans
Following me to places they do not belong
They fall from the trees that always seem so barren to me
Cawing, as if to inform me of their presence
To warn me; they see all
As though the devil himself is watching
Perhaps it is he, in a thousand inky bodies.
Ill fortune walks along-side me
They are Death personified
Surrounding me always
Every glance over the shoulder
Every paranoid peek out the curtain
Imprisoned by this vast world
Unable to run, unable to hide, unable to die
Cursing me always
Killing my loves, and the loves of theirs
Silent, black-breasted protectors