A closer approach,
With the possibility to enjoy.
As the wind moves along the shoreline,
And the boy tucks his tie,
There is a fighter.
Waiting to deploy.
Not a soldier of courage,
Or one with grooves in his feet.
For it is the one
With talons,
And a beak.
He combs his feather,
Spreads his wings,
And sharpens his beak with leather
He takes flight,
But look back, he does not.
For the past is bleak,
And his future is bright.
Humming under the glare of the moon,
There is a man with delight.
A meal,
Locked in his mind.
A mouse,
Now in his sight.
He takes action,
And in one swoop,
The mouse is no more.
He cannot return to his house,
For there is now a war.
A struggle within the mind.
On morals,
And ethics
BUT I AM JUST A HAWK
WHAT IS THIS FOR.
Is the life of a mouse,
Valued higher than a meal?
Surely not.
NO
NO
THIS WAS NOT THE DEAL.
MAYBE SOMEBODY CAN HELP ME
I DID NOT TRY TO CAUSE THIS STRIFE.
For a crisis of the mind,
Over a simple necessity.
Will steal the soul,
And end your life.