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Description
Whispering wings of crows
Flutter above the trees;
Above the deadened forest.
Every plant begs to breathe,
They reach for light
With their bony and broken fingers.
Yet the only life within the forest
Flies away on the first wind out.

Calling cries of crows
Echo in every tree.
The echo never returns to the caller
For it is lost within the tangled branches.
The forest keeps the calls,
Hold them close to it’s charred heart.
Thorns take the place of protection
Surrounding death with death.

Falling feathers of crows
Fade away into the shattered floor.
No life lives here
It’s long gone before the day begins.
No breath is dared taken.
Only twisted reapers
Reside in this hell
Of pain and suffering.