23 December 2011

(124) The raven flies, over my pounding head

(I wrote this in 1988, after awakening from a crazy dream.)

The raven flies, over my pounding head
and he lands on a tree near the church
the air is so thick, you can see it
as he stares from his lofty perch

An omen, I think
as I watch him, watch me
his eyes cut and pierce my brain
spinning spiral circles
I am now so madly certian
he informes me with his eyes
that I'm insane.

Black billed bird with eyes of onyx
fire in his soul
leave me now with no chains of power
I need not your help
on my path to be whole

It's all in a relative motion
beyond to the graveyard below
now I awake from my daze
make my escape through the haze
to the only relief that I know.

So what's this game
that you play in the dark
it's a riddle to some
you know it means that you're marked
I've seen you before
but I don't know your name
the story is old
but always the same