The Call

O where can you be,
My little winged friend?
My time will be through.
I can sence the dark end.

O where can you be,
Black bird of death?
Please just come to,
And devour my last breath.

The image of this world,
sad and forlorn,
has left but misery.
From the day,
We are torn.

As the light starts to fray,
Its the shadows that will stay.
From reality we are torn,
Then left with nothing but scorn.

O Raven of doom,
Wont you hear my call?
Take me to my tomb,
Once and for all.