Talons clinging

With his talons clinging so tightly to the branch, the lone crow ceases his call and in the distance he hears the whispers of the trees. He knows what they say, he's so aware of the sights and sounds from the conspiring arboretum all around him. He doesn't like to hear their whispers and to feel the turmoil of emotions inside of of himself. He wants to keep flying towards the sun, the ultimate source of life and destruction, and never stop. To keep flying on and on and on, until his wings are agonized, burnt out and cease to function. Life hurts.