Perched and ready for the slaughter
Atop a building watching over
All lives “lived” below are over
The ants below, they never see them
All fall victim to the heathens
Ne’er a chance or reason why
Just destiny – they’re born to die
Ravens swoop in and attack
Feeding, feeding – growing fat
Then back to their perch ‘fore anyone sees
Never ends their gluttony
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