a raven, alone in an old empty church living by the silence of the pale moonlit night soaring into the sky; crying on a silver birch of seeing other creatures being recognized, a raven, captive of old echoing vows seeking for a better place; wings are broken if only the whole world is listening now, this raven might whisper about its existence.
~I really need your help. Feedback please, or any suggestions for the betterment of this poem. Thank you. :)