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The Raven part 9

by Brian

 

She awaits in the shadows of reality,

She hunts us, but we fear not.

We don't understand her, but we wont ask .

We don't care.

She is alone tormenting herself on the pain of others.

Blonde hair flowing off the black skin of Raven.

We the aganizors give her the emotion,

she needs to feed.

Grown men weep for the pain she inflicts.

We inflict more then her.

We consider her power only after she strikes,

perched on a branch high above us.

She wants us to bleed.

We have to grow up.

An old man wanders aimlessly over her victims,

tears streak his face wrinkled with the fear of her return.

 

copyrighted©"The Raven" a work in progress by Brian 1998

All  pages, content, poems, and writings on this site are copyright©1998 Distracted Poets. Redistribution in any media
is strictly prohibited without written permission.   To get permission please email brian@distractedpoets.com