Scavenging Eyes

I’ve always heard
about the forest wolf;
Running through the night,
howling at the moon.

And I’ve always heard
about the midnight moon;
With her ears strained,
trying to listen to the wolf.

Their love so old,
through rain and cold,
never too meet,
none to hold.

I’ve heard this all and all, of them,
And their fabled tales of love;
But what of the she-wolf?
And her heart thereof?

And what about Sirius?
in the blackness of the night;
What of their stories?
That remain out of sight.

The murder does watch!
and speak of these tales,
of Sirius, the she-wolf,
of rusty old nails.

So lets all sit,
with the Crows and listen,
with the Rooks, the Choughs
and the nasty old Ravens.

Lets listen to songs,
from behind the veil,
of light and fire and flame;
Where the darkness really lies.
Behind their scavenging eyes.

By:Viraj Belgaonkar

P.s. I’d never be a wolf.
For I’d never howl at moon.

2 thoughts on “Scavenging Eyes

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