With rays that reached out
to strangle the Earth,
the sun gods demanded
a stiff recompense.
But the murderous crows
still flew on the Earth,
with beaks and claws bloodied
by blind, bloodied angels.
A voice:
"By whose will do you nibble
on the veins of dead angels
who trod upon Earth
that lies under our rule?"
The birds cawed and flew
to roost in the palace
inside of the sun
where the gods were impatient.
The birds:
"It is the beast in the hearts
of angry old men,
who put down the needle
and call forth a murder!"
A voice:
"Such treacherous men
who hate all that smile,
called forth such dread birds
to plunder the Earth."
"Having their fill
of every desire,
they sought to destroy
new victims on Earth."
"Sunshine shall blind them,
moonlight will find them,
lightning shall strike them
and all that are like them."
With a smash of a hammer,
thunder roared freely,
and bird feathers fell
onto the blue Earth.
The fury of daemons
guarding their homes
fought off the dread birds
who flew through the skies.
Imbued with the anger
of the strangling sun,
the golden rays scorched
the bodies of corvids.
Their bodies fell swiftly,
smoking in yards,
and the porches
of those who called them to task.
A dope-fiend with spell-books
he used between fixes
paced with discomfort
at the hot, burning stench.
He said:
"My magick has failed,
to deliver the moonlight
into my arms
so that it could do harm!"
Silvery crescents,
perfect full moons:
waxing and waning,
they steal the sun.
But sun had brought forth
the rays of the dawn,
and his sour demeanor
turned more sour still.
His corvids lay dead,
but they had had their fills,
of skin, flesh, and innards,
as they flocked for their kills.
The dawn had defeated
the chaos of night,
as the black-feathered birds
were choked by sunlight.
The junkie said:
"Such an intelligent creature,
what merciless god
would strike down such beauties,
with such noble hearts?"
He spoke double-speak,
and twisted his tongue.
He muttered a mantra,
a powerful mantra.
The birds ceased to smoke
upon his green grass,
and twitched back to life,
then flew away weakly.
He found his death-bringers,
had had enough
And flew away battered
into the sky.
The dawn spoke softly:
"Your words mean nothing,
to my radiant light
that turns the sky blue--
I let them take flight."
"Now, back to your needle,
your powders, and pills;
and your opium latex
that you pilfer from flowers."
"Let withdrawal consume you,
and my light make you vomit--
it comes as you fiend
with dilated pupils."
"Maybe when dopesick,
you cry out in hate,
at all of the fools
who sealed your fate."
The junkie's daemon came
as a hallucination.
and tried to talk sense
into the dawn.
But its arguments lacked
any grace or tact,
or any basis in fact,
like a disgraceful tract.
A thunderbolt struck
a tree in the yard
from a single stray cloud
that pilfered blue sky.
A god said:
"Thunder-armed I could smite you,
your house, and your fortunes.
I could make lightning strike,
and instigate ruin."
"There's no corner of Earth,
that is safe from my bolt;
no hamlet too distant,
too warm or too cold."
"Why do you send birds,
to peck at men's eyes?
Such a disgrace!
My ears heard their cries!"
The junkie sat fearful,
in stark misery
with a liter of whiskey
to dull the withdrawals.
He looked outside:
a tornado drew near;
he saw flashes of lightning
as his nausea churned.
He picked up an axe
which shook in his hands,
and cut the air with the might
of a weakened addict.
The tornadoes parted,
but a bolt struck his axe,
which exploded and shattered
his trembling hands.
A voice laughed:
"Trees and iron!
Weak splintered hands,
with shattered bone
that dials up pain!"
"Rolling in laughter,
I promised you magick,
but you pecked at their eyes,
yes, you pecked at their eyes."
"I promised you riches,
mansions, fine wine,
if you gave me your heart,
your brain, and your hands."
The junkie scowled:
"Beast that I am,
I spat at your offer,
made my own way,
and pecked at their eyes."
The voice said:
"You peck with a beak,
animated by me,
it is my will that guides it
into their eyes."
"They flew with feathers
crafted by me,
and their wings cast shadows
on the treacherous Earth."
“This bird, you see,
makes men its victims,
the sound of its caws
echo through your veins.”
Then the bird did swoop
from some hidden place,
where its bloodlust was chained
to the sun that contained it.
It opened its beak,
and out fell some dope,
wrapped in a package
with nefarious symbols.
The junkie was grateful
for such a fine gift
of forbidden pleasures
that could soothe his pain.
He felt like a fool,
with a smirk on his face.
No guilt crossed his eyes,
and he accepted the bribe.