The Raven

Amidst the barren trees and skies so gray,

An ominous presence lurks night and day.

Their ebony feathers, sleek and bold,

A sight to behold, their story untold.

 

The ravens, with their piercing stare,

A mystery to unravel, if you dare.

Their croaking calls, so eerie and dark,

A haunting chorus

 that leaves its mark.

 

In folklore and legends, they have a place,

Mystical guardians of a hidden space.

They're often feared, yet revered too,

Their intelligence, unmatched, it's true.

 

But there's more to ravens than we know,

Their grace and beauty, a sight to behold.

Perhaps they're not ominous after all,

Just misunderstood, waiting for our call.

 

So let us see beyond their dark attire,

And appreciate the ravens, with eyes afire.

For in their wings, there lies a tale,

Of wisdom, magic, and mystery veiled.

 

In the misty morn, with wings outspread,

A raven perched atop a dead tree head,

Its eyes like polished onyx, so dark and deep,

As it watched o'er the world with a solemn keep.

 

The raven's feathers, sleek and black as night,

Gleamed with a luster, a surreal sight,

Its voice, a cawing, croaking sound,

Echoed across the land, with fear abound.

 

Yet, the raven held a mystery, so profound,

A symbol of change, an omen, unbound,

Its presence, an invitation to explore,

The depths of our souls, forevermore.

 

For in its beady eyes, we see a reflection,

Of life and death, and all their imperfections,

A harbinger of hope, a deliverance from despair,

The raven, a muse, who helps us repair.

 

So, let us welcome the raven's call,

And heed its message, both big and small,

For in its wings, we discover the key

To unlock our hearts, and truly be free.

 

The ravens fly with majesty and grace,

Their black wings slicing through the sky.

A symbol of death in many ways,

Yet captivating to the eye.

 

Their voices caw, a raucous sound,

Echoing off the forest trees.

One might think them haughty, profound,

But they're just living as they please.

 

Mystical and ancient, they appear,

With feathers sleek and eyes so wise.

They see what we do not, oh dear,

The secrets hidden in the skies.

 

They watch us with a keen eye,

Judging silently, it seems.

But perhaps there's more to their gaze,

A deeper purpose to their dreams.

 

For ravens are so much more,

Then just a bird of dark renown.

They are messengers, to our very core,

Bringing omens that astound.

 

So when you see a raven fly,

Take a moment to pause and wonder why.

For in their presence, there's magic roaming free,

A power that stirs the soul and sets it free.

 

In the quiet of the forest,

Where the shadows dance on the ground,

The Ravens gather in their chorus,

To share their voices all around.

 

Their plumage shimmers in the light,

A black cloak against the sky,

With wings that span an endless sight,

And a piercing, watchful eye.

 

They circle high above the trees,

Silent as a winter breeze,

With grace and poise that none can match,

A symbol of all that we attach.

 

For Ravens hold a power strong,

Majestic, ancient, and divine,

A messenger, a guide along,

A symbol of a life's design.

 

So when you hear their caws and calls,

And see them soaring through the air,

Remember: they stand tall and tall,

And in our hearts, they shall always be there.

 

For Ravens are a timeless muse -

A beacon for each moment we choose,

A reminder of our inner truths,

And a symbol of the spirit that imbues.

 

Ravens, birds of mystery and lore,

Dark wings that flap and caw and soar,

A symbol of the spirit guide,

Guiding us to the other side.

 

With feathers black as the midnight sky,

They soar through air and catch our eye,

A messenger of ancient tales,

They remind us nothing ever fails.

 

A symbol of death, but also of life,

Both calm and chaos, serenity and strife,

Ravens are both yin and yang,

Reminding us to see the full range.

 

Their piercing eyes watch us from above,

A bird of power, fear, and love,

Wisdom and magic, all wrapped in one,

Ravens are here, until time is done.

 

So listen close when the raven calls,

And heed their message, no matter how small,

For in their wings, there's magic to behold,

A story of power, love, and wonder to be told.

 

Ravens, oh ravens, black as night,

Wings of darkness, soaring heights,

Your croaking call, foreboding sound,

Mystery and magic, ever abound.

 

In ancient lore, you were a sign,

Of death and doom, an omen divine,

But in truth, you are so much more,

A symbol of wisdom, to adore.

 

A clever bird, with clever ways,

Intelligence that leaves us amazed,

A soulful creature, misunderstood,

The raven's beauty, often overlook'd.

 

So fly, oh ravens, through the sky,

Eternal creatures, you'll never die,

Forevermore, you'll be revered,

A majestic bird, we hold dear.

 

In darkness they soar,

Majestic wings beating strong,

Black feathers shining.

Glints of moonlight dance

Through eyes so keen and watchful,

Guardians of the night.

 

Mystical beings,

Guides on shadowy journeys,

Harbingers of change.

In whispers they speak,

Ancient wisdom in their caws,

Secrets of the land.

 

Ravens, oh ravens,

Your presence fills me with awe,

Masters of the sky.

 

In the darkness of the night,

In the shadows without light,

A creature black as coal,

The mighty raven takes its role.

 

With wings so bold and strong,

It soars above the throng,

Its feathers rough and sleek,

A symbol of the divine and unique.

 

The raven's call echoes in the air,

Its caw a warning and rare,

For it is a chosen messenger,

Bringing news from worlds beyond measure.

 

To hear its voice is to know the truth,

To see its flight is to feel a proof,

That life is a mystery to unfold,

And the raven's message must be told.

 

So let us heed the raven's call,

And embrace what lies beyond the wall,

For in the darkness of the night,

The raven shines its brightest light.

 

Upon a branch, in solemn black,

Perched high above, the Ravens stack.

With piercing eyes, they watch and wait,

Their croaking calls, a warning state.

 

The Ravens soar on winds up high,

Against the gray and cloudy sky,

Their feathers strong, their wings so wide,

A vision of darkness, formed with pride.

 

They dance and play, in joyful flight,

And caw in chorus, in sheer delight,

Soaring above, the earth below,

In a rhythm and harmony, glad to show.

 

Yet in the night, the Raven’s call,

Sends shivers deep, to one and all,

A harbinger of doom and gloom,

A sign of death to come soon.

 

But in truth, the Raven’s black,

Is a color of prosperity and tact,

A symbol of a change at hand,

And fortune drawn to those who understand.

 

So do not fear the Raven’s flight,

But marvel at their strength and might,

For in their sleek and glossy hue,

Lies a wisdom old and true.