• a crow is peerched high in a tree.
    he looks down on the world and weeps.
    anger fills his being.
    the wind whips at his wings.
    he leaps,
    and soars through silky black skies.

    death, he thinks. i smell death.
    leaves dying. trees retreating, giving in to the cold.
    the earth is scarred.
    like he is scarred.

    the autumn air carries him further.
    death is all around him.
    he is dead inside.
    a hollow shell of his former self.
    forced strength killed his soul.
    my autumn air...full of death and suffering.