The Wake Of The Raven

Depression by Vesuvia on http://www.deviantart.com

I can not live in the shadows of statues built of the men that have come before me

I cannot uplift what is pinned at every corner with nail, hammer, and bow

I can not un-glamour the eyes of those lost to false vision of materials of beauty

I can not out weigh the measures of every excessively heavy man nor is it my duty

I shall not dive to the depths of Tartarus to save the soul of commons

I do not wish to be forgiven for thoughts I’ve bared forgotten

For I to breathe in itself is a dainty task

Ne’er do I deserve it, nor did I ask

A wretch in jewels endowed with rich garment praised in sanction

A poor womans cry unpitied but astonishingly always forsaken

In this the wake in that our seed grows

In glass full emptied ne’er chances they never will know

Smite thy children, burn thy frail bone

Halt in wake of the raven where nothing feels and no one knows

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

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