Left for Dead

[Penguin]

Hey guys I wrote, this sonnet for English and I was wondering what you thought of it. I'm not normally to write about on this topic but it turned out this way. Let me know what you think


Left for Dead

Oh, Spanish heron bruised is wear and tear.
Upon the ground you sit alone, afraid.
The flock is far away and not aware.
The lights around about begin to fade.

How can it be the bird so young is cursed
To lose the prime of life? This is undue!
A shattered wing, is doom in autumn’s worst.
The bird is dismal with a ghostly hue.

As evening passes, death is now the walk.
Tonight, the bird, he thinks about his friends.
In dying breath, the bird forgives his flock.
The blood is chilling, and his movement ends.

He lays at peace, the heron now composed.
The bird, at rest, his eyes forever closed.

Edit: Feel free to comment, I can take the good and bad :-)