CrowA Poem by M.Kilani
Flow down blood river flow Enchanted chants the black crow On a tree in a meadow He sees the widow
Dressed in black leaning back Hanging from a tree on the river bank Sparkling eyes and dark black skin The raven has seen the soul within
Beak of stone and feather of steel Scars of time waiting to heal Bleeding the crow on dead branch of wood As the widow was stitching his open wound
He heard her weeping wiped her tears He drank her sadness devoured her fears With fire that blackens yet never cleanse He took her sorrows cleared her sins
Three hundred heavy feathers Attached together With thirty silver rings Pierced to his wings
And three thorns surrounding his heart One for each rose that went apart What’d you call a crow and a widow Both are black they’re dress in shadow
Dead crows they saw in a distance under One crow is one, but many are murder He took her widow along to his heaven Chanting and counting from one to seven
One for sorrow, two for joy Three for a girl, four for a boy Five for silver, six for gold Seven for a secret never to be told.
© 2012 M.KilaniAuthor's Note
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Added on April 10, 2012Last Updated on April 10, 2012 Author
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