The Raven’s Soliloquy

A continuation of the Raven series of poems, the inspiration for this one borne out of two things, the Pandora’s box of emotions I’ve experienced in the last week, as well as some of the cultural mythology attributed to ravens.  Hope you enjoy it.

Until next time,
The Raven

The Raven’s Soliloquy

Perched upon the rafters in the realm where shadows fall,
Sits a Raven with it’s back against the wall,
Its piercing eyes focused upon an unseen commotion,
Cold and unforgiving, displaying no emotion,
Without warning, he suddenly tilts his head,
And the cosmic auditorium now echoes the words in his head…

“Amongst the stone roses with metallic thorns do I stand,
Where beauty and suffering lie hand in hand,
Ever observant since my sudden transformation,
Observing your reality in silent contemplation,
Feel no sorrow for my flight unto the flame,
For though my visage has shattered, I remain the same…”

“A phoenix rises from the ashes, a symbol of hope,
I however, am a symbol for those who cannot cope,
For the one who’s afflicted by fear and depression,
where life is an agonising flux of despair and regression,
A symbol of the darkness within,
A cure, to the mystical cancer of dreams before it can begin…”

“Have you ever wondered why The Flock’s feathers are black?
Scorched by rage in antiquity for the burden of truth brought back,
When thought and memory brought news, separating truth and lies,
As the watchful flock served as ears and eyes,
Warfare and mayhem awaited,
As the world stood still with its breath baited,
Preparing for the bloodshed that lay ahead,
For once more, the fields shall be littered with the dead…”

“As the last guardian fell, the realms returned to what was once before,
Reality has descended and the cycle begins once more,
The sands of time settle upon the stone roses they adorn,
As the Flock ascends, and reality begins to mourn,
Observing, as thought and memory, like in antiquity,
Reporting, contemplating, the realm’s iniquity,
Now I understand that this was all meant to be,
The flames, the transformation, for The Raven chose me,
And so I await the cradle and the wilted rose,
Forever consumed by emotional woes,
Perched upon the stone roses that the sands of time adorn,
As a watcher, a silent observer, as The Raven, Reborn…

Written by The Raven –  15/05/2015 ©


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