A Murder Of Crows Poem by Adam Hannigan

Ominous sign circling from above
Dark black presence felt and unforeseen
When I am standing there not feeling the love
It’s the place most like home I’ve even been.
Rambunctious and proud pecking from the order
Loathed and feared with seared black feather
Historically vindicated fools with quarter
A Murder of Crows blasphemous heightened weather
My Capitol fate decided by their tongues with Malice
Deliberate and never ending assassination sustained
Pedestrian white empty cup not chalice
If only keep my shaking vengeful hands restrained
A civil society lex naturalis transmogrified
Persona non grata of THIS place I am satisfied