''A Bird For Thanatos'' -- by David Hart
Confect not that nest for mate and brood! O ebony vestured
inhabitant of air and ground.
Anon ye rest, quasi-supine on bladed verdant sheet.
Requiescat in pace! Requiescat in pace!
Wafted by Thanatos' immutable call, so ye shall rest.
Forever rest silent and still little black bird, ne'er to skuttle
for and extirpate errant creatures vermiculate. Wellaway dear dark
denizen of sky and earth.
Heaven alas wields its' aspergillum of gentle crystaline drops
now upon you--Thanatos' irenic catch. Ne'er to descant from dawn til dusk through fastigated beak.
Upon me now a lauwine of gloom implodes my soul. Requiescat in pace!
Requiescat in pace!
Kowtow do I to the now still indicia of the reaper's jeremiad--summer winds eftsoons, quietly strum a lakh of minimalist monochromatic monodies through trees' indolent pliant branches.
Ywis, nevermore those mercurial fulgurations in Njortr's realms, no more honeymooning in topiaries, unmewed from raptorial paladine pursuits -- forever.
Requiescat in pace! Requiescat in pace!
David Hart USA 2000
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