Coronach
Black shadows fly
in the bleaching air.
Crows quoth their oaths.
Bitter the day that arrives
with no prayers to say.
Those who walk beneath its sway
shiver and ever wary
of that croaking gravity.
Only the bold scatter
the screeching carrion,
throw their arms to the sky
fists shaken and mad of eye.
The bold and unforsaken
forbid,
their defying faith unbowed -
undoubting and awakened.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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