Raptor

I have the talent to undo you.

Should I rest upon your servant wrist,

you could not resist my power there,

unable to undo or endure the barbed wire grip,

as my talons wrap around your sinews.

You might then look into my unmerciful eyes

and read ancestral things hard written there.

Man, I am the hawk unhooded.

Knowing that, what are you?

I can fly and demonstrate my will

in the blue sky killing,

pretending to be tamed,

can tear apart my prey and be blameless,

saying all is instinct only.

What are you, well preened and fed,

but unsafe in your own nest?

I am the raptor, unashamed,

but what are you,

supposed master?