The Crows Are Flying Again

Another one that started with the title / final line of each verse, and formed itself around them. I hope you like this one.

Beyond the hills there is a tree,
A bough thats grown for death,
The fraying rope of hangman’s noose
Steals my final breath;
If eyes are cast up to the sky,
Where on their way clouds wend,
You’ll see the watchers on the wing,
The crows are flying again.

Behind the church an endless pit,
A hole to lay my bones,
Enclosing earth to bury me
No chance left to atone,
If ears are tuned to laughing caw,
The silence it forfends,
You’ll hear the feathered judges sing,
The crows are flying again.

Beneath the ground there is a fire,
Eternally it burns,
No more for me the living air,
My world no longer turns.
In cruel lament the ringing cries
Confirm my coming end,
My final thought as long I sleep,
The crows are flying again.

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2 Responses to The Crows Are Flying Again

  1. This is very well writing with a story-like tone that works well. A hint of both regret and acceptance gives life to your character too. Good work!

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