The Scarecrow

A heart of straw,
Desolate eyes,
Sewn lips, a scheme of master's coverts.
Impassive, that's what we descry,
But what does this heart of straw disclose
that is masked from mortal orbs.

Soundless and dumb,
Alluring eyes that betray the silence; unveil affliction
Arresting orbs which grieve,
Silent but more distinct,
More strident than the caw of the black feathered.

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