Raven

A poem about the nature of ravens.

Raven

 

Shadows with wings fly across the battlefield

Chiseled black beaks and dark eyes filled with wisdom

They snatch up the souls of the dead

And take them to a happier place

 

They are seen as omens of evil

And are hated by many

The masses believe that Death and destruction follow these elegant creatures like moths to a flame

But it is in fact the opposite

 

These stygian birds follow the hand of Death to clean up its messes

They are the caretakers of saddened souls and the saviors of fallen warriors

Fore if we blame these winged beings for Death’s cruel choices

Then shouldn’t we also blame heroes for fighting the same battles?

 

Is it not the kindness of the raven?

The kindness that drives them to rescue the souls taken from us by destruction

Would you not feel safer?

Flying through the sky in the raven’s embrace

 

So do not hate the raven

Do not assume it evil

Thank this ebony spirit

And let yourself fly with them to paradise