the smell of flesh, is the corrupted hearts

broken sunflowers
petals falling on the floor
hunger for death grows more and more
winter summers all the same
each water drop eventually breaks

fire eating the forest
eyes watching over it
no whispers at all about the blood covering the walls

 dreams crashing down
reaching for lost feathers
taken by the wind
leaves wounds open

hunters sacrificing the dear's heart
villagers watching from afar
reaching for feathers make them fly further away


blood in the river stops the pain