The Buzzard's Lament

Look up, child, and you'll see
spectacles that will shock thee.
And look, the weary buzzard flies
in search of everything that dies.
Buzzard, what tidings have you?
To what far lands, what places new
have your craven ventures gone
as you search yet on and on
for a wretched creature's doom
upon which you might feast your plume?
"I've travelled naught!" the sparrow shrieks
"I have remained yet weeks and weeks
upon this craggy mountainside
consuming only what has died!
O, what a fate I must endure,
can I not be yet more demure,
than such a vile destiny--
a feather'd, crimson fowl like me?
I am such a loathéd beast,
and only for the bloody feast
that I must ever yet consume--
a poor, poor creature's wretched doom?
Nay, how I wish that I could be
like a Man, perhaps like thee,
and thence could eat what I want
and not remain a spectral haunt!
Oh sir, dost thou knowest any way?
Tell me, tell me, don't delay!
It splits my heart, rends it in two,
this I do beseech of you!"
O, wretched creature, I reply
please do return unto the sky,
for I can give no aid to thee,
please, bird, please do not ask me!
The creature gives one last lament,
then with such a glare malevolent,
returns unto the dark'ning skies
in search for anything that dies.
And now my child, let us return,
our ventures for the day adjourn,
we'll leave the buzzard to remain,
as the clouds begin to rain.

-D.B.