Were I not a savage with evil eyes,
Were I not a beast of sacrilegious lies,
Were I not the end of all thou hold dear,
Would thou not still in darkness fear.
For as I sit upon thy spire,
My intention towards thee dire,
For I intend as would my kin
To find solace and joy in thy din.
As thy kind resolve to live to full,
A life of meaning less dull,
My stature crouches high above,
And claims a view as of a dove.
Below I spy as of a creature so foul,
As to harken a cry as to a growl,
I spread of my limbs a span so great,
And reach far and flap as to elevate.
My body dives at speed so vast,
As to herald a vision of the past,
For as I leave to strike my prey,
Sunlight beckons and clay away.