Raven's Despair (Revised)

There was the crush,    
and then the rush,    
hard stipple of a brush,    
not worn of the dashes.    
     
I have autism,    
but of no pretenses,    
I see blood tipped greens,    
those you call weeds    
     
A palace was built,    
The homeless guilt,    
I love your sparkling eyes  
Closed book to fairy cries  
     
A cave we explored,    
every treat in disguise    
and I wanted some more    
as your body would lay.    
     
Memories sometimes    
captivated our rhymes,    
pump the blood to the flow    
and I became the crow.