Confessions of a Raven

Black rains and dark skies
the nights are a curse
easier than waiting for the sun
is to fly over a dark hearse

They talk of death
wherever I go
and yet for all evil
there is very little I actually know!

In me, live the ghosts of the past
in, does darkness dwell
I’ll live through till the rains last
for in me, are the gates of hell….