The Crow

The Crow- Dennis Siluk

Heavy he leans his feathered head

Gazing at the blood red mist

Tired, -- his face shows time has past

And on his tarnished-gray wings-

The world rests...

Has God forsaken you-?

To grief and pain:

To love the sparrow instead?

Are you not the largest of the perching birds?

Crowned with a grayish hood-;

Or are you just a crow...the farmers hate

(or should)...?

Your breath has left you

My feathered friend...

Too week to lift your head again?

What separates you from man?

Is it the sky and land?

Or the road each must go?

Each unto his own...!

It seems to me,

Life's a test for you as well?

But man must ponder on,

And Reason.

What is the question you ask?

I see, within the stare

Of your silent dark eyes:

"Who are these masters who rule the land-?

Give back to me the sky!"

However,--will you fly again?

Touch the heavens?

Light your wings on fire

From the scorching sun?

Glide with the wind until dawn?

You are the mystery that cries

Within...but then, you are not made in His Image,

My Friend...!