Blade of

The blade of fate lay over my neck forceful and blatant

Cold But withered like a willow tree whistling like a raven

Black and sharpened with the thorn of my heart pierced through my body

Thee knows my quarrels and thee knows my pain that indeed I am hearty

For the fate

of the blade

that lay Hovering over me bares my ever growing load of her rose that is heavy laden.

Oh the blade of fate has wearied me upon the the deathly road I take for nothingness is where I'll lay in.

A field of my fate is where I lay and where I hear the call of the raven.