Pastures with the smell of the raven’s tonic prize
The beasts gather to imbibe in death’s wild fragrance
Keeping close attention to their imminent demise
Circling the remains in hopes of tasting their vagrance
The new ones hold innocence like frozen confused eyes
As the experienced drool in hopes of getting their chance
Then the wind shifts the waft in a ruthless grizzly surprise
All fall perish within this wild titans unruly piercing trance
The raven’s tonic dissipates then brews again over the next rise
The nomads resume the salivary nasal blood thirsty dance

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