Unipolarity
A shadow swept along the shifting plains of sand,
And muck.
A lonesome spot of black against a dusking sky,
It circled twice, then found a place to land,
Upon a cracked and windswept hand.
Her wizened eyes shut still to hide this murdered ground,
A smile;
A leering hole that marked a cannon's blast,
The winged one peered, at green-blue skin caked brown,
And fled for tastier prey around.
Her lids opened just in time to see the lonesome crow,
Be gone;
Off into the empty promise of untold wastes,
The green-blue crown swung sweet and low,
Her brilliant, blinding torch was last to go,
Into a vacant, ashen night.