The Raven Waits

It is cold among the shadows, where heavy tears belong Behind the gates, and iron locks, where sinking headstones dwell Where names that time erases, are deeply etched with tales One walks here in the dim, gray light, where the ravens weave their spell There are legends, told in secret.. from deep below the earth... In whispered tongues, they wonder,...does the raven wait for death? Black ebony has circled. Is a feather just a quill? Or...do the stories hold some merit...are they illusions of the chill? A moss covered headstone crumbles, and tumbles with a touch A raven's gaze seems evil, has he brushed the devil's wrath? A voice of anguish rises, with an echo from the mist And the silence comes, and all is still,.....or are legends simply myths? Black heart, no shame.... a moth to flame A caw cries out, , ..."how great the cost!" They perch and watch and find a nest, among the webbed design The lilies and the laurel...a tangled garden climbs entwining over markers...that only wither on the vine A raven waits, as nightfall comes, as fog and returns again Another night, another life, will end again on time ______________________________ Inspired By Kelly's Contest: The Raven (Poe) 10/4/14