Beautiful Youth

Hungry hawks 
Clash their beaks
Their screams make
The moon 
Run backwards
Flying west where
The sun 
Sinks away
As soldiers stand 
Sacrosanct to the spear
With that they were all 

Their whole fancy 
To the kill
Death takes all
Valor from the Earth
And the wild boar 
Proud to be fierce
Evanescent flowers 
I cannot bear to cut

This delight comes
To us in dreams only
Thanked be fortune 
If it hath been
Otherwise bodies heaped
Upon bodies
The hawks would enjoy
A grand feast as
Men go off to
Hunt for game

Fear no more 
The heat of the sun
For the screams 
Have scared him away
Along with the moon
Darkness alluring
Disgraced with fortune 
In men's eyes
All that is left

Beautiful youth
The dawn of the flower
Stripped away 
And stolen here
Where the wrong or 
The right wind blows
And the hawks fly 
And feast
And the men hunt 
For pleasure

Β©James Dennis Casey IV

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