deepundergroundpoetry.com

Raven and the Hanging Tree.

There is a tale that happened a long, long time ago. That a small little town, deep in the dark, dark woods. There is a tree up on the hill overlooking the town and its woods. But this tree is not a simple tree. It�s the Hanging Tree. It hanged those that have nothing to live for, the sick ones, and the prisoners of war. They say nothing alive stays there. Well, except the raven. They say if you walk up the hill and see the raven sitting by the ropes that once hung poor souls. That you will die if you look in its eyes. Your death will be bloody, your soul will be lost, lost in the branches of the Hanging Tree. If you don't look in its eyes, the raven will try to peck out your eyes and force you to see it. It will scratch for face until you are no longer recognized. I�ll suck your soul and keep it as my own. I�ll leave in in a terrible state that you�re just dying of pain. I�ll stabbed you with my razor sharp beak and scoop your flesh up like ice cream. I�ll drink you dry from blood. I�ll wrap your neck up in this rope and watch you struggling to breath. Laughing in joy as your feet are only inches off the ground. And hear the wonderful sound of silence of your heart. No beat.
That can only happen if you look at me. The Raven in the Hanging Tree.