I am all sorts of dark and deadly
I light the stake at which i burn
Bend the water trying to drown me
Drink the river as it churns
Change the skin that I'm trapped in
grow it feathers, claws and beak
Black as plague and death and dying
Fissures crack with every shriek
The mold of the world is breaking
Glue it with mortar made from bone
Gods and monsters feel it quaking
Ravens laugh in gleeful tone
I fly from the smouldering ashes,
The river and its drought
Cawing madly at the masses
Expire, dead, die out