Thud…Thud…Thud…Thud
one foot in front of the other
piercing hundred silent breaths
marching across damp gravel
White silk gives birth
food to mother earth
a pretty flower you’ll become
perhaps a rose, leaving all lustful fingers numb
Your final flight, head -first dive
without density of water swallowing you at the finish line
wings not yet developed for weight of all they’d need to carry
Sharp air replaced by hard asphalt on innocent nestling’s face
Tight ropes fastened around your oak chest
descending into coal depth
another treasure buried for the better
hidden from greedy hands
Sleep tight little birdie
Your flight ending prematurely
Crumbled by the gravity of life
As the greatest treasures usually are
You weren’t ready, and I’ll tell you a little secret
Neither…am…I…