bloodbath

it's polar in one's soul

(in its northern side),

‧

a predictable hunch

clouded its eyes' sky,

and frost deafened it

‧

if it tries to say some,

its words… get frozen

‧

whispered a snowdrop,

on bloodbath of March

… flocks of birds fly unnaturally in some skies,
emitting a terrifying disruptive noise

‧
have no feathers, but AL13, carbon fiber and
plastic, plus a motor instead of heart

‧
they're known as drones, (…evil angry birds)
darken the sky and turn the ground red

‧
(may those real have might to annul fake ones)