the gods are ruthless, the gods are merciless
and one day they will light this world on fire
just to see how long it dares burn for.

Nobody but me and my crow.


A black crow flies at night, hidden high above the city lights.
Looking down on us all, like we are beneath it as it soars.
Nobody knows the crow’s thoughts, but we want to so we try;
But our own interpretation of the crow in the sky,
Shows us no truth at all.


Flying past the moon, it is gone before we know;
As it falls down towards the ground, is it in its death throes?
Or is it safe and sound as it catches the air like an arrow?
As the people walk below, alone, they are lead forward by its shadow.


In the middle of the night when all is dead to the world,
I can hear the crow calling out into the void.
High and low it has been searching for an unknown mate;
Now, as I see them, they are an omen of a future destroyed.


Now as I stand here preparing for death,
I struggle for thoughts and gasp at a breath.
As my body shivers under the moon, I fall;
Snow underfoot, through an empty forest I crawl.


Death is in the air.
Nobody left to meet in this forest.
They are all gone to nowhere;
So there is nobody left to save my soul
And nobody left to care.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Ten times nightly it crawls beneath,
Five times sprightly it ruptures my peace.
Pale is its breath
When I open my legs
Waiting for it to go back inside.
Sometimes, when it sleeps, I begin to feel
Something close to love.
And slowly it moves, its endless wrath,
Extinguishing all warmth,
Coming back to its fat prey.

It opens its gall black shining eyes.

How dreadful,
The cold silence of waiting
For uncondensed hatred.

I will ride this horse
Until I'm shot down
And even then I will
Crawl along the ground
Until I lift my eyes
And I can see that right
Has won the battle
Against greed and might.

I will pull myself up
Through blood and pain
Until not one square mile
Of hatred will remain.
I will call out those who
Label villainy other names
And strive to make them see
That evil is just the same.

Up to that precious day
I will never rest quietly
Until peace in our world
Shall lie and rest beside me,
Until this will come to pass
I, the discontented messenger,
Will point the way to integrity,
And be its constant harbinger.

Lightning is the fleeting thorn of blooming thunder
The self-erasing crack into the sky window
The laceration of the clouds that left no scar
And sealed itself instantly
And bled to life bountiful
Shifting afloat in deep grey

*

The lightning showed me the way
To the burning tree
The clouds were dark with worry
That I would not see
The thunder told me to hurry
Before the earth swallows me