Alicia Mcconnell, Grade 11
On the ocean shore they waited,
Till the last final blast of the horn blew,
Marching to their death, as the crows circled above.
The praying eyes of the black birds of satin,
Call in hoarse voices,
To the dying men on the battlefield,
Like the vultures, circling,
Waiting for their next meal,
On the satisfyingly smooth flesh of man.