Trepidation bests the bravest beaver.
The protection it provides is eternally temporal,
Until thought of hubris reigns,
Crafting rains of aquatic torment.
Foliage is painted with cartilage,
From those too wholesome to live.
Young weasels unscathed by fire,
Further starve those in water.
Slamming chords of mischievous instruments,
Cause snared beasts to helplessly cower.
In homes of bloodied limbs and venison,
Transformed by rhythmic toddlers.
Animals trembling from grieving stomachs,
Sharply yawp at their ageless deities.
Blunt pleas are blatantly ignored,
And hearts are sluggishly dried.
Flashes of light display hope,
But sources shine from gluttonous hunters,
Looking for easy prey,
Added to eternally temporal prisons.
–Kevin J Flors
Thanks for reading.
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Plate of Soup 