Lone Disciple

The hawk eats alone

Shifting feathers, grasping claws, on hard, dry branch

A scarce meal barely scrapped from forgotten carcass

The darkness lay upon it, and nourishment was near to none

The hawk hunts alone

Since it had first spread its wings, to crown the skies

A stubborn pride had grown within, pretending to fly higher

Then darkened talons sunk below, that make the air a choking fume

But flying high there is another, staggering throughout the air

Wing torn, getting stronger

The hawk will see it through

Together, perched upon the night, reaching into unknown fields

A growing hunger, growing need, the busted wing yearns for bandage

The hawk must provide

It may bring a meal, worthy of two

Possibly conjure a smile, upon a face yet so barren

But no matter how much care its hoaxed heart can attempt

See, in the end, the wing will bleed, the other one will seep through

Unsatisfied with the now depleting high

Funeral for an aspiration

Spreading self, the other flies, towards the birds of prey

That leave the hawk cold, weak

A paltry, putrid reek of mortal coil

Left on upon the branch, barely acceptable

To fill a dying bird

The hawk eats alone

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4 Responses to “Lone Disciple”

  1. its very sad, babe. And if its about what I think it is then its even sadder. I donno, please tell me.

  2. two people meeting, and one nurturing the other, growing to love them but once the other is healthy and happy it simply moves onto to another, leaving the hawk that took care of it in the past alone….

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