Starling
I am one with all; all with none
glissading in organic
formation Yet our plumes
adorn a confidentiality
tethered to only a false
narrative that juxtaposes
the manacles interlinking
individual by individual
Alpha dignity consumed
by serf labor, encircling
vultures performing
remarkable feats
They shall be entertained
while They witness a
waltz between hues of
void, desolation, impairment
Distorted lenses wielded
to garner a crowd
and dismantle a brook
for phobia’s sake
When I sever my wings
I am all yet one; none and all.