(Untitled)

[n3cr0phelia]

Vultures:

Foul-feathered and scald-necked,
They sit in evil state;
Raw marks upon their breasts
As on men's wearing chains.
Impure, though they may plunge
Into the morning's springs,
And spirit-dulled, though they
Command the heaven's heights.

Angels of foulness, ye,
Sloth on your muffled wings,
And speed within your eyes!

-Colum

Comments

[_tomb_lilies]

It seems incomplete, to me.