I wake in the night
by the silver moon
and nothing to repose me
except the whispers of shadows

As I bide in the silence
The grandfather clock tick-tock-ticking
I can hear but the faintest sound
of the bird on my sill

It sways in the cool night air
Its shadow burned with frost
The curtain drifts ever so gently
Enough to make me stare

Those eyes - those dark red eyes
They look and watch me through
And those feathers - black and clean as silk
Are tossed about in the night

And the raven, it stands
On its two claw legs
Spreading out its nightmare wings
and taking off into the night