The Corvid

The Corvid (c) London F. Bus March 2020 Who Sleeps with me at night? My secret, but if you must I’ll tell you: Fear sleeps with me Just fear, which suddenly Cradles me in the distance Of darkness, loneliness, and silence I the hunted, blind to the hunter in my dreams he waits, waits, unseen Pain speaks.. The crow, the corvid, the corvid, She the Raven circles close and low: screaming her warning loudly again and again. She comes, She comes: it is her time: Flaxen hair blowing in the wind, to kill and be reborn again. Her name is... she has... needs no name. The wind calls softly to her, wispering Pfeydraa, Pfeydraa. Gods call to her... but she doesnt come They have stolen her rainbow, so she doesnt come.. Pfeydraa, Pfeydraa but she doesnt come.