SHUTUP30.3: Eye of the Tiger

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Today’s prompt was to write a journal through the eyes of an animal as it observes the world. As there are no animals that love me, I wrote about ominous ones instead.

The ties that bind you,
supper, are of home-spun silk,
decay at a touch.

Quake, wizened human,
before my dark mighty wings!
All this trash is mine.

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Fables

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We tell ourselves tales
of animals, and expect
to know why humans.

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cc by Early Novels Database via Flickr