The Crow and the Raven

I hang my head in sullen dread My soul is dim and weary And now that light has bid goodnight My eyes are wet and teary I take a pause 'fore midnight's jaws And look upon my future There's nothing there but shame, despair A wound with naught a suture I lift my crown and set it down A king, but not a ruler With desperate aire I offer prayer The mists grow thick and cooler A single crow flies swift and low To roost amid the birches All nature stills; the forest fills With awe not found in churches He parts his beak as though to speak His voice is harsh and broken So with a sigh I give reply As if he'd truly spoken We string along our corvid song The river as our lyre Each new refrain begins to strain Decaying, bleak, and dire Another cry tears through the sky And down alights a raven In fear I shrink. What would they think To know their king is craven? The omens wait without debate I simply need to follow But either way I take today Has bitter pills to swallow I hold my breath, twixt life and death But take this as my warning If I'm not back by sunlight's track You'll find a different morning