Eyes Of The Abyss

By Keerthana Vasudevan

In twilight's grasp, where shadows dance,

The vulture soars on wings of chance.

With eyes that pierce the veil of night,

It hunts its prey by lunar light.

Through desolate valleys, it takes flight,

Its vision keen, its purpose clear,

To seek the remnants of life's wane,

In the carcasses of dreams, it reigns.

Amidst the silence, eerie and still,

It spies the world, a land to fill.

With visions bleak, yet keenly wrought,

A merger of life and naught.

Through valleys deep and mountains tall,

It casts its gaze, a somber thrall,

Upon the earth, where stories lie,

In whispered echoes beneath the sky.

With talons sharp, it claims its prize,

A scavenger of forgotten cries,

Its beak, a dagger, cuts through time,

As it feasts on what fate consigns.

In fields of green or desert sand,

The vulture's vision doth expand,

To realms unseen by mortal eye,

Where secrets sleep and dreams do fly.

With wings outstretched, the vulture flies,

A sentinel beneath the skies,

Its vision sharp, its purpose clear,

To find redemption, far and near.

And though it scours the land below,

The vulture's vision doth bestow

A glimpse of beauty, rare and true,

In every dawn, in every hue.

By Keerthana Vasudevan