I am the crow
That was before,
Now made to go
For a last chore,
To find the place
Where I’m to lie,
As will old crows
When time to die,
The while remember
I am the crow,
Who with its caw
Be crow you saw,
Meant let you know
Hunger weren’t lore
Nor presence to ignore,
Tho now be just a crow
That is alas no more!
I am the crow
In a grave
Dark world,
A soul in plight
Black as night,
Forced to soar
In a dying light,
On weary wings
And failing sight,
Yet made suffer
Endless flights,
Looking for path
To freedom I seek,
While agony looms
In this wasting meek,
Who’ll suffer hell
Or fly with the devil
For a ray of light,
That shows the way
To end this journey
In the dead of night!
I am the crow,
In a grave
Dark world,
A soul in plight
Black as the night,
Forced to live
An endless flight,
Looking for a path
To the freedom I seek,
As anxiety nears
This wizened meek,
Who’ll suffer hell
Or fly with the devil
For a ray of light
That shows way clear,
To end one’s journeys
In the dead of night!
Poetry on a canapé 