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The Vulture Coward

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Limbs lay on lands-- soured,

Pestilence, well past death's hour.

On shuffles the vulture coward.

Under the sun he's begun to devour.

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Tad_Winslow You're currently reading the poem The Vulture Coward, which was posted on Mar 27, 2009 by Tad_Winslow.

This is a solo poem.

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