The Black Owl

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Nothing Left

Awaking in the cold,

Forgotten in the lingering fog,

Like a slimy frog’s hair split sixfold,

Finer than polluting smog.


Left in a burning ring of lies,

Smothered in dreamless sleep,

Like a dying fox's blind eyes,

As night crawlers slowly creep.


And now it all seems,

Useless in the end,

Like a shy bird's broken wings,

There's no time to mend.


Damned to merciless adaptation,

Deserted to haunting mutation.

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