Raven's song

Softly the raven cries,
sings Her sad song of death,
as over the fields She flies,
giving my poor soul no rest.

Then She lights upon a branch,
outside my window sits,
I gaze into Her eyes in tranced
my eager soul, to her, submits.

We rise above the roof tops,
and glide beyond the trees,
into a sky that never stops,
my fluttering soul begins to ease.

As on we fly into the stars,
Her song, now, the sweetest and the best,
then from me She departs
leaving my tired, old soul at rest.