When I was a little boy my mother always told me that
there is no such thing as darkness,
but there is.
I saw it with my own two eyes.
I always swore to myself that I would never
go back there again.
Ever since I saw it,
hearing that horrible crowing
compelling me to have that same old nightmare.
I shiver violently
How long will this madness last?
Back in the past, people would always tell me
that whatever came around would go around.
The black crow, that which carries a burdance of unruly chances to my window
haunting me until the last breath.
How my heart desires for this to end,
but the fear of it ending me grows stronger each night.
But only God's time will come.
Among my patience, I will hold my family's portrait
while my blood drips of despair.
Like a young poet, whose blood embodies
justice and revenge
With this beautiful family portrait,
I can only feel love and hope...