Krähe

Something pointless.

They come, aloft, on beating black wings,
But for whom does death's bell ring?
They sat atop Odin's shoulders wide,
Spirits of wisdom, knowledge and pride.
Sending whispers of fear and superstition further --
And a gathering, hereby, called a murder.
Oft been quoted: "Nevermore."
Watch the ravens, on stygian wings, soar!

Reviews

[Wolfhilde]

I enjoyed your poem! I love the germanic en norse mythology