Ravens and Shadows.
Silence breaks from atop the ancient Oak
I discern his small waiting shadow
Where others glimpse only spired branches
Tossing against the cerulean skyline
Sharp eyes of obsidian depths
Follow my intent of movement
Talon perched within the canopy
Simply waiting for me to move
The raven beseeches my name
His call weighing ever heavier
A solitary patron of the impending
I am he and he exists within me
Lending flight upon black razored wings
I exist in the purest of freedoms
For that which only he confers
Never passing judgment on my passions
Or reproachful of my actions
Silence breaks from atop the ancient Oak
A silhouette that is the absence within…
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