A Murder Of Crows

Featherd in black,
They fly thru the dark,
Sunk in the pain,
And the blood, and the stain.

Heading to nowhere,
They fall and turn over.
Hollowed by wrath,
They trace down the path.

Immortal cries heard
By the souls of the dead,
And the moon shall not hide,
For she serves as their guide.

I fear in my dreams
The day the find me,
'Cause we thought not of hell,
When their feathers we burned.

But don’t you be scared,
Sleep sound in your bed.
See, they cannot reach us,
'Cause we’re mind of the reason.

We’re image divine
Of perfection alive,
We exist upon life,
And we make the Earth cry.

And so came the time
When our blindfold unwrapped,
And we saw not light,
But birds black like night.

One flew towards me,
And my body felt weak.
Then I saw my reflection
In its eye of creation.

I watched it get smaller,
As my head became heavier.
Fading it all,
I started to fall.

The ground starts to shake,
As a stone here I wait
For the end of our breaths,
And the arrive of our deaths.

We thought we owned them,
Then created our hell,
Now heaven’s door closed,
It’s them who own us.

An empty land of greatness,
Remains in time spaceless,
'Cause the makers were selfmade,
now they’ll never hurt again.