Raven
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Raven
He riffled through his thoughts erecting a wall;
black eyes from unplumbed depth of shifting sea.
Gray as gray, as the raven mocks and pin
with a withering look a prostrate pawn.
Impotent to think of anything at all
other than him on this ghostly bleak night.
His breath a combustion of nightmares
a roar of extreme death fear and horror,
suspend or expel like a reservoir.
The sounds, smells, and sights of a brittle star
and fierce with the passing of time.
His thoughts often turned an engorged raven in silent ire.
3/29/2018
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Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2018
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