Ancient folk tales are those which give credence,
To the countless creatures in existence;
It is believed to welcome into our havens,
The wicked, wise, majestic black ravens.
For our ancestors in their bodies somehow reside,
Letting food tasted by them be our guide;
Little myth no reality man has left to abide,
So conveniently proving our actions bonafide.
It is this man and not the mighty raven,
To be deemed dark, wicked or twisted;
Who cannot let go of life from the graven,
And care for the living with whom they co-existed.