Hungry Grasping Greed

With, hungry grasping greed
Beneath a maple tree
Suspended, swaying
Vermilion fall leaves

Lying, face up upon
Lush, verdant grass
Rests, a fool man
With, a ghostly hue

His soul
Recently taken to flight
From enduring
A caustic, truth

Ever so consistent
His icy black heart
Provided a hardened, gate
To the walls
Of a shadowy
Rustic bower

Encompassing
The cooling embers
Of a dying fire
Where love was
Never, asked in
Or welcomed to stay

One lifeless eye
Staring blindly, upward
The other, within the belly
Of a single
Cawing raven
Proudly marching
Upon his lifeless
Bare chest

Occasionally pecking
The empty socket
With hungry grasping greed

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series