Seven Black Crows
“Ground control to Major Tom”.
Peace be still my soul, I’m coming home.
The mission bells play their same old song.
Faint hearts speed now faster than moving light;
Lost now am I in the vacuum of the silence of this night.
Wandering is I in the forgotten desert of shadows too long.
Dark are the clouds that gather on the horizon of broken dreams.
Sore troubles begat sadness, sorrow it seems is mine now to keep.
Seven black crows now perch on the window sill of my life.
Cawing, Cawing, calling out the name of misery and strife.
The magazine clip is full; seven rounds for seven black crows.
Caw…caw go the crows; gunshots now scream from the window below.
Bang, bang then again and again; black feathers fill the sky.
The air is now thick with gunpowder as the last black crow dies.
The smoke and the feathers clear, the dark clouds run and hide.
The sun begins to shine; the calling of the darkness has ceased to be.
My heart and soul is still torn asunder, yet peace forever will be mine.
For in a moment, in just the few simple seconds of time I become free.
For the darkness fades away and seven black crows lie dead at my feet.
J. Allen Wilson © 6/7/2010