The Raven
The raven steps out of the swirling mist
Orbs of darkness stare at me,
contemplating a list
Gazing into my soul, it’s time to tell the
world I don’t belong
The turn of his head at this thought,
tells me I am not wrong
Throwing my head back I try to understand
the game life plays
If not through the wasted years, then now
at the end of my days
Twisted and bent in agony, of whom or what
I betrayed
Palm outstretched, his feet and sharp
talons he laid
Flashes of my life blaze by my eyes in
fast motion
My head turns and twists, in a restless
commotion
Screaming at the useless memories that
keep replaying
My brain, bit by bit continues its mind
flaying
Dark thoughts, dark dreams, and dark
images from me they steal
His nail sinks into my bosom . . . I bleed
to feel
Eyes welling, body quivering, the pain is
too much to endure
The reward, the pleasure of truly knowing
myself, he promises to insure
Without pain, how do you know if you have
experienced pleasure?
Without pleasure, how much pain can you
suffer and measure?
Kneeling down, head bent, and eyes closed
with nothing to see
I whisper as I fade away . . . you will
suffer me, this I guarantee.