Carrion

Death of any kind
Doesn't guarantee an ending.
How is it done, this
Sleight of hand, when
Desperate oaths you're sending.

I didn't know from the moment when
Carrion birds appeared, that
I would endure, their
Shadows ghosting overhead.

Always there among the entrails.
Nothing officially confirms,
No out-of-body messages.

Even for those nonbelievers,
Till after the rush of warm blood
Slips away into slumber, and later,

Daylight terrors, with their
Unblinking stare of
Disenchanted nerve endings,
Like matchsticks that never burn out.