Tale of A Witch And Worlock

The story behind this poem was I became restless, and fed a need to purge vocabulary from my busy mind.

The black crow with a bloody beak spoke to me in my sleep.

In chant of rage, it babbled from this wrought iron cage.

My subconscious now, was deciphering a black crows rage, all the while in a deep sleeping stage.

Astonishingly interpreted, the black crow said unto me, “break this cage so I may be free”.

My mind now bleeds thoughts of freedom, all the while in my subconscious kingdom.

Sounds of the caw caw getting louder and louder becoming irritable throaty and raw.

It was at there mere moment of raw caw, that my deep sleep broke from that raspy raw throaty caw.

In that conscious moment of waking, that blood beaked crow in that rusty cage was shaking.

Its head was in a petulant shake, that I can assure you, was not at all fake.

Rubbing my eyes to verify the shake was no surprise, the blood beaked crow disintegrated into hundreds of flies.

I quickly knew I was in much peril and harm, as I glanced at my hand holding this silver charm.

The charm I stole from that old crow, that I caged with all intent and rage, was a Witch known commonly as Moonstruck Sage.

Summoning my form quickly into a Red Eyed Raven Hawk,
Moonstruck Sage is not trapping this ole Worlock.

Live to hunt another day,
Predator or Prey,
Night or Day,
I will get my way.

Mgm 12/31/10:43p