Eagles Do Not Fear the Flock

Eagles do not fear the flock
Nor are they confused by chattering congregations
Patiently they wait
Plunging they select
Striking they kill
Broken necks and fluttering hearts
Are carried away and torn apart
Sometimes on the wing
Sometimes at the roost
Then they return
To feed again on the gathered, twisting, twittering mass of victims
Those that survive
Do not live in the flock
They cower within it
Praying for the death of others
Before their turn comes around
Praying for a quick death
Accompanied by an all consuming darkness
And without the pain of dismemberment

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