Poison. From fangs of deed
Seeps through to the vein…
The soothing piping of
The Beautiful Talon
Counts my laden breath. Yet
Silence strangles
The ready scrawny neck as
Distance decays the marrow.
The black blood nourishes
This life…Beautiful Talon...
Comes caressing my spineless cord
At the height of the harmattan haze.
Igwe Kalu
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/xviii-beautiful-talon/
