Friendly were their smiles, they do not bite,

They stay and fly and lie until they might;

Till they choke you they will hear your song,

Crimson black, a heart as dark as gold.


Lonely and their chantings made me sway,

In my heart and mind I let them play,

The bleeding: stays forgotten and in vain,

The winged: still fly and not even in pain.


True lies lies through a fooling craft:

A blade, a word that strikes the back

Eye the lonely scarecrow-no grace in fall

-pity not the act but help my soul.


Now the black winged seized the day,

Chase another living song to play;

Still moments still chase my stolen dreams:

This is death bound to eternal pain.


Friendly were the crows they do not bite,

Only make you bleed your life, and die.

Will I grow tired of pain, will I grow old?

I rest embraced by death, embrace the cold.


The Day I Bid the Crows Goodbye
11/11/17