The Raven

Bird of evil, death and night
are but fables taking flight.

Silhouette against the sky,
sable shadow flying high.

On her guard and always wary,
thought to flock a cemetery.

Wise beyond her feathered years,
soars above those foolish fears.

Sleek black beauty, ebony,
darkest for the world to see.

Her cackle mocks her evil myth,
her curse is nothing but a gift.

The raven, it was told to me
is closer to pure poetry.