Leaves fluster nervously at the wind
Flies mill around cautiously
The ground gulps hungrily at the red dew
The mongrels wag their tails hopefully
It’s the feel of mutiny
A public display of recovered confiscates it was
An empty purse and a dead phone
Flanking the wet ground
Engulfed by red stain rocks and branches
The result of mutiny
Previously unrivaled excitement and cacophony
Given way to deathly silence
The nervous shuffling of the feet
Not sure of their feat
The taste of mutiny
Were these the fabled Iki and Ake?
Bonded by their thirst to take
Where they didn’t ache
Or were they just fake?
Did anyone know their make?
The questions in mutiny
There is suspicion in the air
Was this the right lair?
Or had they nabbed the apparent heir?
“Was it a slug in bait?”
The uncertainty of mutiny
Then suddenly from yonder
Sirens that made them stop the wonder
If this was a grave blunder
And all had to scatter
The consequences of mutiny