The Raven And The Rook

Today’s version of The Raven’s Tales is an attempt by me to intermix storytelling, emotion and description with abstract meanings hidden within the symbolism. For a while now I’ve been struggling both with depression and the miscarriage last May. The Seer represents the depression and darkness that lays within, The buzzards and rook represent the thoughts within me that seek to tempt me to follow the dark thoughts to fruition, these thoughts are often ones that remind me of my own perceived lack of worth and importance. Finally the rook represents the isolation I feel at times, especially during times wherein I have to deal with the depression that lays within me.  The Wilted Rose again represents my Angel, as well as all those that I’ve lost over the years, in one way or another.

The midsts and distance, represent time and memory. The time that has passed since I had lost those people and animals, as well as my memories of them. These are all beings that I have shared a deep emotional bond with. The ending represents that although time may pass, and memories fade, that the bond shared by myself and those I have lost is eternal and that they shall never be forgotten. I hope you all enjoy it. Until next time…

The Raven

The Raven And The Rook

In the distance, amongst the midst and sky,
A solitary rook stands idly by,
The masonry, crumbling solemnly into the sea below,
The ripples in the lake carried by an eerie moonlight glow,
Yet despite once being fit for a King,
Now only darkness can be found within…

The Raven heads towards the idle rook,
His mind consumed by words read in an ancient book,
Yet in the distance, something caught his eye,
Horsemen, translucent and spectral, rode in the sky,
Encircling the rook, and all that lay within,
Chanting, screaming “behold, the keeper of the sin”
For inside the rook, stood darkness incarnate,
A seer, of a catastrophic and terrifying fate…

The seer’s visage, adorned by a beard so wild,
Long matted hair, twisted and styled,
His eyes pitch black and darker than the depths of hell,
Fixated on the lone corner where the night’s shadow fell,
The rocking chair he sits on, swaying to and fro,
Whilst a banshee’s screams can be heard echoing below…

“Raven! Raven! You, the darkest of birds,
Hark and listen to my spoken words”
The seer yelled and rambled on,
Speaking of the grave that I had once perched upon,
Daring to utter words about the tree of fate,
Words which did nothing but make The Raven irate,
Controlling his anger, The Raven continued towards the rook,
And upon landing, managed to avoid being impaled by a hook,
Scores of buzzards flew around the seer as he pointed at The Raven,
“Follow the buzzards” he said, in a manner so coarse and craven,
The Raven like many times before,
Merely shook his head and said, “Nevermore…”

The Raven kept his eye on the seer, as he flew away,
For much had he understood this very day,
As The Raven flew away from the rook,
Ponder he did, the words written in the ancient book,
And as he landed upon the branches of the tree of the damned,
The Raven peered below to where the thousands of tiny bones were crammed,
Picking up the Wilted Rose by the stem once more,
Haunted still, by the tears from the days of yore,
The darkness casts a shadow as it has many times before,
But The Raven knew, forget The Rose he would, Nevermore…

Written by The Raven –  26/03/2016 ©

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