Chariots of Fire - 2013/10/05

I woke to the morning cold assaulting,
In a strange way I was unacquainted with.
Both of my eyes locked in their sockets,
Shackles binding me forged by some smith.

While I rot a scent wafted on the breeze,
Crumbs of stale bread inspiring homicide.
Despite the great surplus of my willpower,
My limbs sat unwilling to grant me a ride.

In the sky a black flock of birds cawed,
Moving listlessly without any real plan.
Whereupon hope swooped in on some breeze,
As I then began to move like any other man.

Excitement flooded synapses in my cortex,
Electricity flowed into all my extremities.
Within a brief moment my life is laid out,
Hours wasted waylaying sheep in the cities.

The black mass seems to be creeping closer,
While that strengthening scent encircles me.
My first instinct is to call out for help,
Yet it seems my lips are paralyzed you see.

In a rush of realization and welcome relief,
The particulars of my situation become clear.
For behold my friends these are carrion birds,
And oh my they appear to drawing quite near.

They pluck out my eyes and those of my men,
Tasty appetizers which enhance their brunch.
In all honesty our bloated and fit carcasses,
Will likely provide for more than just lunch.

In these moments before darkness takes hold,
I am given full knowledge of crimes committed.
We simply maimed, murdered, raped and stole,
And hung this morning as we were not acquitted.

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