It’s not big this crow of mine. Head cocked, observing time. Perfectly sized to sit upon my windowsill, Reminding me that dread and fear are a bitter pill. It calls to me Stopping me. I can’t hide and I can’t pretend, It sees me, watches me my friend. Waiting and lurking till the end.
His injured hand bleeds As he became with greed A simple change to him For a large exchange His mind is a stray The greed is at play The money weighs His mind is broken His words are spoken Greed is an omen That I like so very golden
The money changes his mind, takes away from him turns him into something hes wasn't. He is unable to change.
Hangs overhead by a solitary thread Pommel set with Lucifer's jewel Crossguard made of crescent moon The Blade a king's interminable doom
On January 31, 2019 in the darkness before dawn I witnessed the triple conjunction of Venus, Luna, and Jupiter in perfect alignment, creating the shape of a long sword in the southern sky. Venus (the "Light Bringer") adorned the pommel, the waning crescent moon formed the crossguard, and kingly Jupiter gleamed at the blade's point. The omen was revealed to me as the fabled Sword of Damocles (dam-uh-kleez) which hangs over all those in seats of power, suspended by a single strand of hair.