Some Little Thoughts

With steely claws upon his padded feet,
He stalks the forests, dales and glens,
In leat streams, he searches
Should a trout swim by,
To note its nature, virgin swim,
No way to catch the fishy thing,
And so he watches with a cawing sigh. 

All living things, one day will come
To this marauder of the hill and glen
His black and shiny look appealing though may be,
Disguises all his true intent,
For he comes a-calling, silently,
One feet that make no sound to be,
And he comes with mandate, Heaven-sent. 

When least expected, he will stand,
Awaiting chances, patient-bent,
But when he sees his opening,
The last breaths extracted out
In the time it takes to close a door,
And the lifes extinguished, evermore;
Ends the deadly fight: Another final bout. 

The speed by which he does his work,
On padded feet that make no sound,
With a single weapon, undefined,
He scores his target, never-missed.
Come kiss the world of carrion crow,
Black bird of death, which comes to sow
The blessed message: Lifes enigmatic twist. 

Come kiss the black bird of death:
Black as coal, twice the burn,
Twice the heat, and twice as deep.
He hovers, gracefully, waiting a life to win;
He waits his turn to eat his fill;
To take the souls from town and hill;
Come kiss this bird: He is your kissing kin.