Stark dark black limbs
Breast eyes beak wings
Abysmal feathered
Garments; a messenger.
Mal to prefix, as well,
Remnants from the abyss.

Not malicious, for delicious
Is a delight dragged
Out of any carrion.
Not carried because
They carry enough
Is too much for
These observers of us.

Screeching their squawks.
Perched on boughs for talks.
Of malign imminence.
To coalesce friendly fragments.
Found at any crossing's discourse.
Gusting about an eerie force.
Beacons upon who to bereave.
Portent displacing fallen leaves.

So we re-member
Our piece by piece plummet
Into that omnipotent
Stark dark descent.