The Ravens
The ravens are circling in the wood,
Bellow them the beast of the old year
Reduced to bone and red string.
Their cries cut the sky
Oh pluck away these old and outworn things
These fears, these lies, all that stings.
The Ravens cut it all away
They give death to life
In their joyous flight
Before them fall the crooked queens and kings
No one can ignore It when a Raven sings!
Death is part of life and that is a joyous thing
An end to your strife
Step under our black wings.
©Laura Moverin all rights reserved
Laura is a Brisbane based artist and poet. She is part of the MSM writers group. Laura came to Australia from Africa as a child. She currently works with children. Her loves include animals, art, children and the environment.