A Conspiracy of Ravens

Sitting on my windowsill,

Craving of a crying crow wakes me,

From a deep soundless sleep,

the raving of a Raven shakes me.

Engulfed by a mountain quilt,

Surrounded by mi amour snow,

I am yet to bear witness to a lonelier,

yet annoying squawker.

Cries of a cold dog,

Fidgets of a cranky cat,

I've heard every night dweller.

'Cept a screeching bat.

Screams so hateful,

have I laid ears on just?

Who is this swollen fly,

can't contain his thirst?

With eyes full of slumber,

I part the thick curtain,

my sleep has gone,

of that I'm certain.

For a writer of old,

'tis, not a new experience,

But for one who wakes me,

My doors are not welcome.

Come 'o come my days declare,

Partake in me your ecstatic highs,

Light adieus of lifelong sojourns,

the heartless denies of your soft sighs.

Come 'o come my days declare,

Come 'o come my days declare.

My nights are dark,

ridden of imaginary snarks,

My lips are shut,

but the eyes do bark.

My hands are pale,

my skin sublime,

Sunlight for me remains astray,

In front of the gods, I hold no sway.

Blood of foes,

I drink with remorse,

'Tis a duty with which,

I must abide,

For my days are not numbered,

until I oblige,

My resolve is thick,

in my eternal pride.

For those who disturb,

my loving shut eye,

Dainty for sure is the life ahead,

Death for them is the final ally.

O Raven of night, O bird of prey,

Remind me not to cringe your day,

Though you wake me,

at night so bright,

Like me, you're a soldier

of the wicked fight.

Love you abhor, flesh you adore,

I'm not about to be your latest score,

Like you, I am a creature of the night,

It won't be wise to angry me slight.

So fly away to your fellow blacken beasts,

I will visit you on my next hunt,

For if you are a conspiracy of evil birds,

I am a night dwelling blood-sucking runt.