The melancholy marriage of the Raven

Over the hills of crimson and lie,
through the valley of ribbon left to tie.
Underneath the rivers of scars and wounds,
lies a corpse of ravens rotting ruins.

Maggots devour the dying heart,
teeth like razors scratching it apart.
16 dying with the rotted stench,
16 more for blood to drench.

The unloved marriage of the rotted raven,
married to the ground she has made her safe haven.
Vows unbroken by the bonds of the maple wood coffin,
now her broken wings may finally soften.
♠ ♠ ♠
I wrote this while suicidal. I soon figured out it was the wrong way to go.