Beneath the great oak lays the raven.
Life no longer, body contorted,
About, strewn feathers pulled during the struggle.
This aftermath, a grim reminiscence.
Surrounding, the unkindness calls in dismay,
I, mere witness, breathe a prayer.
And beyond, the church bell rings seven times; calling me to return.
The eyes of many are upon me.
There is sadness, there is grief,
And there is anger.
Felon absconded; I fulfil the role.
Blame etched into memory,
A face that takes their own.
They will never forget this,
Nor I them.