Raven's Dirge

The sky is bleeding charcoal grey,
The sun has turned its face away,
Upon the bough of skeletal pine,
A silhouette of dark design,
The wind carries a hollow, lonely sound.

Shadows stretching, cold and deep,
Promises we couldn't keep.

Oh, hear the Raven’s Dirge tonight,
Swallowing the last of light,
No hope remains in the velvet gloom,
Just the beating wings of a coming doom,
The shadows cry beneath a broken sky.

A memory etched in obsidian ink,
Standing upon the final brink,
Your voice, a ghost within the breeze,
Bringing the winter to the trees,
I weave your name into the throne of bone.

Oh, hear the Raven’s Dirge tonight,
Swallowing the last of light,
No hope remains in the velvet gloom,
Just the beating wings of a coming doom,
The shadows cry beneath a broken sky.

The feathers fall... like ash... like snow...
The secrets that we’ll never know.

The Raven sleeps...
The cycle deeps...
Nevermore...