LETTERS TO DESTINY © 2012

We are the vultures of the new civilization,

Always waiting for an opportunity to pick apart,

We circle what remains of others' falls,

Ready to consume what is crumbling apart.

We look from above, in patient flight,

Seeing the world wound and bleed,

And in the greed that drives us,

We await the moment to satisfy our need.

We do not create, we do not nurture life,

We merely hover around decay,

And where there is fragility and failure,

There we will make our stay.

The new civilization is made of shadows,

Of watchful eyes on human weakness,

Where error is opportunity

And failure transforms into fame’s bleakness.

We are vultures, silent and cold,

In constant wait to devour,

But we forget that one day,

We too will be what others come to scour.

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