RAVEN WOOD
In dark Raven Wood, there stood,
a house of rotting boards.
It's secret kept, by those who wept,
with guttural phantom discords.
Be it told, legends of old,
tales of the raven appearing.
Bringing death, the last breath,
hot and soul searing.
Ebony trees, a foul breeze,
pungent and acrid smelling.
One step away from decay,
envelopes this dank dwelling.
Disembodied ghosts, spirit hosts,
of those on the other side.
Inhabit this place, lost human race.
entrapped here, now abide.
Overwhelming fear, in this sphere,
a horrifying, cryptical center.
The raven cries, another dies,
into the nether world they enter.
copyright©2005 Meg Nelson (all rights reserved)
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RAVEN WOOD
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