I walk under the shadow of a raven,
Dark ever watchful eyes on me.
It's shadow is a constant presence,
Though I dare not look up,
For fear of being blinded by the acid rain of regret,
The sting of drops tainted with yesterday's pain.
Burning new scars over old,
Hurt is my constant companion.
Calling my name through a raven's caw,
A black feather falls to the ground.
Too fast for its appearance, it hits the concrete like falling steel,
Glints in what little light remains like a blade.
I fear now the inevitable swoop downwards,
Razor feathers and knife like beak waiting for its moment,
Yet with each raindrop my fear slips to hope.
A quiet prayer for an end to this constant agony,
I grow tired of looking at the graves of the fallen and feeling only envy,
Grow tired of the shadow,
I am both afraid of the inevitable and afraid it will never come.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Nights at Noon A Collection of Poetry
PoezieA collection of poems about my struggles with mental health issues. Writing has always been an escape for me and it has exposed me to some of the most wonderful and creative people this generation has to offer. Their words continue to inspire me to...
