The Raven’s Symphony

This last month has been the longest of my life, the days felt like months within themselves, and the month itself felt like a decade. I still have not come to terms with the loss of my unborn, I am finding it a struggle to even begin to mourn and grieve for my loss. So below lies a tribute to my unborn Angel, who remains within my thoughts in every moment of my day.

Until next time,
The Raven

The Raven’s Symphony

The wilted rose lays forever still upon the Raven’s beak,
A month has passed, and the night is still so bleak,
The shadows still flicker amongst the lightning’s light,
Souls grow weary, and lose the will to fight,
For as the Flock continues to call,
The Raven refuses to move from where the cradle did fall…

Thirty days have gone by,
Yet there are still tears in the Raven’s eye,
As he stares upon the ground beneath the tree of the damned,
And ponders the meaning of the thousands of tiny bones that were crammed,
It dawns upon him, that upon the graves below,
Lie the bones of the one he had wished, had hoped to know,
There can be no respite for his weary soul,
His pain is the sweet symphony for whom the bells toll…

Unforgiven, The Raven stands, by himself, by his own comprehension,
The agony and anger that lies within, prevents his ascension,
For wherein opportunity and hope seems to lie,
The Wilted Rose is a reminder of how hope can die,
How the greatest joy, can become the greatest pain,
As all that remains are ashes and a memory, in his mournful brain…

An empire built upon the dirt, is all the Raven once had,
Hope springs eternal, yet there is no reason to be glad,
Thorns from the Wilted Rose, dig deep into his beak,
Pain clouds The Raven’s thoughts, and the future appears bleak,
Blood pours upon the sands below,
As ambition dies and despair begins to grow…

The Raven’s pain now stands as his greatest addiction,
Fear of further loss, cements his conviction,
To stay upon the tree that towers over the cradle’s grave,
For nothing can develop now that he remain’s anguish’s slave,
So The Raven continues to consort with the darkest thoughts within,
As the voices chatter becomes a cacophony and his head begins to spin,
A month has passed, and still the pain continues to grow,
For The Raven still mourns for the child he never got to know…

Written by The Raven–  07/06/2015 ©

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