Old Poem: Talon Fallacy

I just found a poem I wrote four years ago in an old journal. I have no idea what I was thinking at the time; I think I was trying to make fun of The Mars Volta but I can't be sure. It's about a suicide if you can't tell (I'm actually kind of proud of myself for being so dark at 18):

Talon Fallacy

Through desperate roar of eagle's beak
She passed on the baton
And in the corner unannounced
There crawled a smoking gun

While panicked whispers ran amok
Split hairs all stood on end
Alluded the accusers to
A list of medicine

As millers stopped their milling
The forensic strike zone closed
In staccato slumber she sleeped on
On every side opposed

Still in the corner of the room
The ember smoldered on
Evidence, estranged, wept as
She armed the second bomb

Pedestrian grief Sheol alights
Her soul down there
For one more night