Crow Queen
She sits upon her throne of woes
Pain in hand to feed the crows
A silhouette against the sky
Her feathered friend is perched so high
She looks at him and he looks back
She sits and waits to interact
These wing-ed beasts Her only friends
She even makes their feathers pens
Life has gone and left her weary
But stay the crows, though oft are leary
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