A sky of cold screeching,
demanding;
like a raptor in the wind.
Doesn’t have the impact
that simple warbling brings.

With fear of cold words spoken,
love retracts,
like claws on birds of prey;
and all I loved about you
has now flown far away.

Predatory words can rip,
into beings
lovelorn at their peak.
Not accomplishing anything but
the sharpening of the beak.