vulture

The vulture circles the skies
Seeking easy pickings.
He needs to pick a pocket or two
As if inspired by Dickens.

He looks for hearts already slain
To pick love from the bone.
The victims ready traumatised
He has no guts to kill his own.

He draws them under his wings
And offers them a home.
One or two or three he takes
For he cannot be alone.

The vulture raids their inheritance
To further his own needs.
They follow without question
As he carries out these deeds.

They are here for one reason,
To feather the vultures' nest.
No free will is welcome here,
A saint this world would test.

He takes from purse,takes from heart
And hoards it in his store.
He covers their faces to hide his shame
As he takes from them much more.

The vulture sits upon his bastard throne
Awaiting fresh new blood.
Surrounded by wealth and beauty
He is left alone to brood.

For Karen.