The Crow
There is a crow that always follows me:
A master of shadow—
His dark black wings full of mystery and evil;
His cunning dots for eyes.
Always watching; always waiting…
And even when I fall asleep, he waits
For me there; to peck out my eyes
Until I have two little black holes, just like him.
So we are one in the same, this crow and I,
But I do not want to be.
Why should I be a crow, forced to taunt?
Some hypocrite I would be. This crow
Is a master of shade. He wants me to join his murder,
For we are one in the same:
Him and I.
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