The Raven’s Sorrow


All this time I waited
for the thing that never came,
'til one day I decided
that the thing would never come.

So I walked 'til my feet bled,
yet I continued t'ward the moor.
I had no idea I was walking
to the thing I waited for.

He was long and sleek and black
where he perched upon a tree.
His eyes were a gold so pure
that I knew they held the key.

He regarded me in measure
and let me stare into the light.
He knew I understood his sorrow
and flew into the night.

Life is long and painful,
is what the raven showed,
but what could be more dreadful
than to never be endowed?

It was then I finally understood
the thing long waited for.
To think, to do, to be, to live,
is the key from the raven of the moor.

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