Eyes opened from the sound of dread.
Lying in the new morning light I see crows.
They really do fly with the feathers of doom.
On their missions early filling the air in black.
The cawing of crows part scream and part cry.
Aerial messengers with their own stories to tell.
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Author:
Sandbone18 (
Offline) - Published: February 28th, 2018 01:49
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 7
Offline)
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