The Raven

The raven soars through the night,

Cackling with laughter,

As it claims another life,

And creates another disaster,

But what if it isn't?

What if he doesn't want to claim deaths?

What if he doesn't want to do the unpleasant?

And hear his victims last breath?

What if he isn't cackling with laughter?

And is actually crying in despair?

What if he despises the sense of disaster?

And wants his curse to disappear?

What if it's a warning?

Or if it's just pretend?

What if he wants to join in with the mourning?

Or maybe he just wants a friend.
♠ ♠ ♠
I decided to put this little poem up to give it some use. Its mainly about the superstition of a raven sitting on a roof and signalling the people living inside will die.