Failed Endeavors!

Raw bleeding wounds,

Full of pus and rotting flesh,

Reeking offensive odor ,

kept the vultures waiting ,

For that weak moment,

To prey on the leftover meat!

The wandering healer , paused

Pitied the ghastly sight,

Favored the anguished one,

Pushed a stick to the dying,

Urging to defend itself,

That rotting hand reached up to grab!

The salvager, pulled up the decrepit,

Steadied , bestowed water and solace.

Significantly revived,

The cripple chased it's predators.

Slowly, gradually

The grief subdued.

Back on its feet...

The bygone invalid,

Gathered sticks and stones,

And began pelting,

The monk who had equipped it.

For all reason and rationale,

Escaped it's competence,

Whence prevailed a ranting carcass!