Reuben's "Prelude: Vultures" is a defiant vow about how the speaker and their companions mean to live and die. Vultures usually wait for the weak to fall, so the opening wish that they never "pick our bones" is a refusal to end as carrion. Instead, the speaker imagines going down "flaming, with screaming tones," loud and unbowed rather than quietly beaten.
The middle of the poem turns to endurance. Gravestones may wear away, but "life and youth" push the group "ever upward," with no place to rest. The tone is restless and driven. The closing lines make a promise: no victory bells or velvet thrones until a villain, known from "ancient rhymes," meets the fate the speaker refuses for themselves, and the vultures leave nothing of him. The mood is fierce and determined, with a dark, almost mythic edge. The rhyme on "-one" and "-ime" sounds gives it a steady, chant-like pull.