Snatched

Posted on April 30, 2013

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Picture courtesy of Wildfire2003.jpg & Cemetery of staglieno and more

Picture courtesy of Wildfire2003.jpg & Cemetery of staglieno and more and their Facebook page


And the lullaby is sung
as the moon low is hung
Ghostly white and floating low
its view obscured by evil below
The child softly sung to sleep
as the crow guards its precious keep
Whilst night-things slither and crawl
in the darkness they do rule
The crow waits for one
who tonight will have its fun
As its brethren above do play
whilst the child and he await
They await for the end
of which none can defend
Then the beginning will come
as will the Master for the One
And as the ravens and crows fly overhead
all becomes uneasy, even the dead

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Posted in: Poetry