docked

yacht

everyone inside

is dead

no explanation

no one cares

the leather

is stained

blood

of the pre ordained

talk about

off the chain

what about

the anchor

that was cut

too much bread

to butter

from dud

to stud

preying

like he's

at the top

of the food chain

that image

contorts

efforts

deranged

and desperate

the white eagle

of the north

clasps

fresh fish

for its young

find the nest

rescue those

who cannot fly

on their own

steadfast and curious

longing

for longevity

no holds

no bars

cages

are cramped

and rusted

grinding metal gears

campaign is

all clear

spontaneous combustion

inside out

outside in

cutaneous friction

lobster claws

taste best

with drawn butter