Black Raven

It perches on the small branch with claw like feet

Using its beak to screech throughout the night,

The moonlight cast its glow upon its eyes

The black voided gaze reflect the gleam without reaction,

Its feathers are like the color of ash and smoke

Seeming burnt and crisp as it thrives with life,

Its feathers once white with a sheer illuminating light

Its voice once heard in a gentle melody,

No one knew its courage nor pain

A touch from the sun’s rays as it scorch the feathers,

The feet splintered and peeling

But the people live on without the dark touch of winter,

 

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