Dark, knowing raven....
Whose entrails hang from your beak?
Living in your black and white world,
feathers never ruffled, sleek blackness
never dulled. The reflection in your
cold eyes never dimmed by the dust
of lives passing and hearts breaking.
Dark, knowing raven....
to whose heart do you speak?

Augur to all who dare to listen,
chilling shadow condescending,
glissading over these pathetic fools...
living as if they have a right to be here.
You know. I know. But this token
of forbidden knowledge...well,
it is the very thing that chokes me.
Foreboding black bird....
predator of my own submission.
To whose heart do you scream?