Waiting for the person to die, to feast on his flesh, to suck his soul.
Driven, they were, by their desire to push one more to die.
The slanted rapid dives were adding to their efforts, to his restlessness.
Content with their efforts to trick one more to their trap, they were circling around him, waiting for him to die.
But he didn't die. The perceived bad luck / ill fate was not that ominous.
He let the vultures circle around, watching and learning from their gaze.
He let the vultures think he was still under their spell.
Until he washed away the omens in the flow of his cries.
Until he could transform the reminder of death into the symbolism of lessons learnt.
©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey - http://severallyalone.blogspot.com/