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Showing stories tagged with #bird-symbolism Clear filter
I saw a murder of crows this morning, Hundreds, flying above my head. Jet black clouds, flapping and cawing, Swirling in skies of red. I saw a murder of crows at noon, Like pilots on a mission.
The day was loud with morning dew, The clouds alit the sky, A one-eyed magpie watch me walk, And watched me passing by.
Angel-soft; a tone bright and pure as a prayer Floats iridescent and glittering Across nights blindness, With dark clouds; it's dulled stars; Raindrops falling (not like pearly joy, but tears).
#nightdwellers Circling in a midnight sky, In arching movements crows do fly, Screeching, soaring: ugly sound, Then plummet, dive towards the ground.
Why has the rain discoloured the sun. Go ask the crows. Why summer's ended before it's begun. Go ask the crows. Why do I feel someone just behind my shoulder Go ask the crows.
It used to be so black, my heart stained with its sickly colors truly more dead then living. It used to be so wet my eyes so filled with ptormented tears, blood replacing water exhausted its resource.
I looked out my window, One cool summers eve. And i saw a bird, Skinny tall old thing. But little did I know this Bird would give me joy. For a few mounths later, We had a baby Boy.
Little bird, what do you crave. Do you wish to see my grave. I'll show you my death if you want. As I layd dying in a colorful pond. Has your little head spun loose, In my luck, making me your muse.
Fly away Birdie Fly high into the sky, I can't come with you, I'm stuck to the ground. Fly away Birdie, You can find more, You can find better, Look down from above.