The Average Life

In the shadow of dawn, The truth was found And we were Remaining As left over stones in doom. They showed No sign of regret or sympathy. We didn't mean much. And silent resignation to what we know is still Impossible. Why this hostility? There was scream and they went away With hate in their big wings and left us Behind With bitterness to comfort all. For The moment my life rises, Hovers and dies for me. The big black wings of the great birds have Colored with blood