RAVEN:

Guardian of the tower, clad in cemetery´s onyx plumes,

Meandering beneath the stars upon boned marble tombs,

Encased in midnight mantles spun by misty spiders looms,

Feathers kissed by arrows, shot from silver ancient moons,

Serenading long-gone spirits with your deep & ebony tunes,

Unseen by living´s eyes, disappearing long before hot noons.

Creeping in with musty dawn, sat upon stone of Angel´s head,

Welcoming in slow grey morn of pewter-mauve & bruised lead,

“Be brave guardian of the hallowed bones”, God to his spirit said,

“Keep safe those long gone souls, who fill the still-living with dread,

No longer formed of flesh & speech, no veins of blood flowing red,

Their spirits live on in my keeping, but I want you to guard the dead.”

 You´re no carrion crow of pearly sky, upon canvas with oils daubed,

Gargoyles, guardians vigilant, mullion eyed, pebbled, stony & orbed,

Keeping secrets of the dead, beneath wings black, hidden & stored,

As sun sneaks creeping in, dewdrops your imbibing plumes absorbed,

Your ancient psalms of eons, on cracked crypts are echoed & cawed,

Carrying away sins of man, on high, to where you´ve vanished & soared.

Raven, guardian of the grave of night, Great Spirit of flint & jet-shot eye,

You, ever-watching vigilant, every mote of dust & crawling worm you spy,

You know your place in history & never deem nor dare to ask God why?

Beneath the velvet cloak of night, where ghosts upon old breezes sigh,

This place of peace & our interment, to where we go when we all die,

And with sun´s sly golden smile, stretching your wings, away you fly.