The Crow

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Jet-black living shadow
who comes on silent wings,
Loud-voiced bird of midnight
who speaks but never sings.

Bright-eyed feathered bandit
who covets things that shine,
Clever trickster spirit
to some, a deathly sign.

Flying high above me
dark wings in a bright sky,
You send me a message
in your wild, raucous cry.

"Do not fear the darkness,"
is what I hear you say.
"You must survive the night,
to live another day."