Featherfall

Clasped by the tearing claws
A soft fall and then
Thrown on a feathered bed

Oh the owl allways grasps
The concept of death
But who are you
Oh who who who

Dead prey or the hunter
So deep in your dept
Tangled up in sticky strings
Tangled up to your neck
In debt to the nations
You never learned to name

Oh who who who

Are we the ones learning to fly?
Or those crashing
Before called back to the earth?