Feathers flown about Dark Ravens claw their way out Above the surface past the overbrush Wretched, drenched, lash Out to the epitome of darkness The King, their Lord it is what they harness Where the light cannot touch Wriggling, squirming dying to clutch Time, tied firmly to roots of their own demise They seek solitude through a long, blistering ride One too many flew the coop, itching to touch the sky But home is too far away in a time not solidified Feathers flow about in search for something new Ravens lost in mist searching for what was never true
I get lost in my imagination sometimes thinking it's better, then I realize it's the root of all my depression....