Wise Owl

Steps echo
Across concrete rough as sand.
Cries pound through air cold as ice.
I search for the source,
In darkness it lies.

Entering the bleak alley,
I am silence among mayhem.
Viewing three others, remaining hidden.
As a wary owl scans the dreary field,
I absorb the ghastly sight.

As I lie in wait,
I fear not the demons
Towering over the lone soul,
For they are the mice and
I am the owl.

As I lie in wait,
I hear words of hatred and spite.
I see iron fists bound tight.
I hear words of 'faggot' and 'dike.'
Hammer against anvil,
The fists rain down.

As I lie in wait,
My watchful eyes catch
Those tear-stricken upon the floor.
They speak of pain and sorrow.
They beg for mercy and a better tomorrow.
The flint is struck, the flame catches,
An ember that burns close to heart.

I shall not extinguish this fire.
Heat rising, blood fit to boil,
Pushing the once wary owl into turmoil.
Among silence I am no longer.
Words like talons, I slash down to bone.
The blood of mice fills my hunger.

They gaze on, expression blank.
Struck down with shame, limping away.
Flame cools, the ember extinguished.

Victorious I am, but I feel no bliss.
Surreal clouds tell of something amiss.

I Blink. Steps echo across concrete.
I Blink. Cries pound through the air.
Awakened from dreams of justice,
Looking again down the bleak alley,
The gasping pain within now causing
Trembles of fear.

I turn.

I turn and walk on.
Cries of pain now
Falling on deaf ears,
I walk on.

Better to
Not interfere.
I walk on,

For I am society.

I am the wise owl.

Watching always,
Acting rarely.