The Crow and the Raven

I hang my head in sullen dread
My soul is dim and weary
And now that light has bid goodnight
My eyes are wet and teary
I take a pause 'fore midnight's jaws
And look upon my future
There's nothing there but shame, despair
A wound with naught a suture
I lift my crown and set it down
A king, but not a ruler
With desperate aire I offer prayer
The mists grow thick and cooler
A single crow flies swift and low
To roost amid the birches
All nature stills; the forest fills
With awe not found in churches
He parts his beak as though to speak
His voice is harsh and broken
So with a sigh I give reply
As if he'd truly spoken
We string along our corvid song
The river as our lyre
Each new refrain begins to strain
Decaying, bleak, and dire
Another cry tears through the sky
And down alights a raven
In fear I shrink. What would they think
To know their king is craven?
The omens wait without debate
I simply need to follow
But either way I take today
Has bitter pills to swallow
I hold my breath, twixt life and death
But take this as my warning
If I'm not back by sunlight's track
You'll find a different morning

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