Invisible in the night,
The crow circles the grey tower.
It's coat at sight,
Seems dark and evil, bitter and sour.
Yet inside is light,
Our souls carried, on the witching hour.
Buildings standing still,
Colourless and empty, filled with life.
Bustling movement at will,
Towards the sharp,dark blessed knife.
The Crows Flight Ended.
Our light never reaching where intended.
The crow circles the grey tower.
It's coat at sight,
Seems dark and evil, bitter and sour.
Yet inside is light,
Our souls carried, on the witching hour.
Buildings standing still,
Colourless and empty, filled with life.
Bustling movement at will,
Towards the sharp,dark blessed knife.
The Crows Flight Ended.
Our light never reaching where intended.
fiNd_THe_fLaME
WhittyKitty
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