Wings of Night

A feathered silhouette swoops through the dark night sky

The stars are pinpricks of silver in the pitch-black night, a sprinkle of glittery hope in the darkness

The masked owl is a hunter, with hooked talons and a sharp beak, silent wings and keen obsidian eyes

She is a portion of the darkness, seeping into the cracks of shadow

As her habitat lessens, she finds herself returning empty-beaked from most hunts

It is hard to become a survivor

The fallen trees are fallen soldiers, shot down from below

Painfully dismembered, disembowelled, mauled and maimed

Carelessly disposed of, destroying nature, aiding climate change

Missing limbs are nothing now, death is all that's left

Silence-breaking hoot, heart-shattering shriek

Is this the end?