|
| |
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.
Copyright ©
London F. Buss
|
|