As the Crow Falls

The beat of corvine wings surrounds

A nightmare realm at languid pace.

No cease does seem to meet their sounds.

Their stale miasma stays in place.

They seem surreal, but in their berth

Another dream takes vibrant form

To rise against the worry's worth

And ride the world out through the storm.

At every step she skews my sight

From fright to cheer and lights my mind

Where fear's forgot beneath delight

While fate's fresh face is growing kind.

The wretched pall of shadows cast

By fetid flights across the sky 

Shall soon enough fall to the past

And let love be reborn thereby.