Now hunting the raven

Of the elite in lover’s Ireland

I was the surviving monument

But I was never initiated

In the romantic tradition of being lied to

I became a smith of bloodlust

With blind folly and ruin

I brought scars to the dove

And prophesised the raven

 

But I was not made for this

I spiked on the brakes

Vacated my temporary form

After battlefield slaughter

 

Now mumbling wishful fantasies

Through a broken jaw

Out in the wilderness

Still nursing the dove

Now hunting the raven

Reviews

[Samantha ~virginpoet]

Loved this its a fave!!! I could imagine you saying this with a sexy Irish accent mmm lol

100/100

[hmm]

I enjoy poems about Ravens, this one is really good.
Quite an enjoyable read.

[Emily B]

quoth the raven, 'nevermore'