Stimulated by the chill,
The weak legs
Trying hard to hold on;
The visions of the past
In those diminished eyes,
The lost soul
Confined in the avian body.
Flying at its own will
Barring the wind,
Flapping its wings
To remain motionless;
The ricocheting thoughts
Of those moments long gone,
The fixed gaze
Prevented by the eyelids.
Searching for a shelter
Frightened to come close,
Forsaken by mankind
Unscathed by nature;
Unfulfilled wishes immortalising
The unresentful memory,
Inured by the jaunt
Unrealised visions of the past.
A speck of fear resounds
As the sun starts to set,
The wind grows colder
And the journey it must undertake;
The eyelids become motionless
To savour one last image,
Time for it to fly away
The lost black crow!
----- sometimes the soul of the dead ones are reincarnated in other earthly forms....
