The Crow

From chaos and mayhem, the crow spreads his wings

From tip to tip and ground to sky, he emerges from the muck and the mire

He ascends towards the sun shedding all the bad things

Spreading his wings and bearing his breast, vulnerable and fearless is he

Upward he scrambles his dark eyes focused forwards, for the future is where he wants to be

 

Away from the darkness, the cold and the hollow

He commits himself to be risen, to go where his past cannot follow

 

All along he has needed to venture, to seek and desire,

Without fear of shame nor punishment nor fire

 

He will fly,

he will become,

he will emerge with his soul and no more be subject to numb.

 

This is his day, his freedom and his life,

And it will be celebrated without pain, without darkness and with light.

 

The crow has risen and he must fly, he will fall no more, he will succeed or he will die.

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