Vultures

Feathered messengers of death Perch on twisted branches, in an endless chase Pecking at a heart, left to rot In the day's harsh and unforgiving light With bloody wings, a grotesque sight Attempts to unlock the heart, in a deadly fight Pecking away, at its layers untold Till the heart is nothing, but a mold The heart once beat, now it's but ash For these birds that peck, in a mindless rash Nothing left, but memories and scars Of love lost, amongst twisted boughs Digital mixed media 7000x7000px