28 January 2013
(Old Man Walking Long Part 3)
You know my name, I am Crow, throughout your history, You will have noticed me. Ever present in your little lives, I contrive To be wherever luck tries to hide;
I was perched atop the Latin Bridge, in Sarayavo, To witness the assassination of our Archduke of Austria, and his Wife, Sophia. Oh, what an elegant turn of events I saw, That led to the start of your First World War.
And then again, you would find me calling mercifully, In Warsaw, as your tanks and armour, Bayed for the onslaught of the Second World War.
But this is recent times I recite, My crow wing can be seen in flight, long before; In 1344 I watched as a rat arrived on the Mediterranean shore, at The Port of Versailles. This crow's eye Blinked at the sight of a flea from the rats infested body, And I held my breath, as it infected 100 million souls, Screaming plague on their death bed, My feathers the colour of Black Death.
But further still, you will find me, In 856AD , in Damghan, Iran The earth shook, and 200,000 souls shook violently, fatally.
In 79AD I circled the mouth of a volcano, and I tried, unsuccessfully To warn the good people of Pompeii
Calvariae Locus, in your first century, found Man conversing Quite extraordinarily with Crow, 'Where is this ?' I cawed, having flown from afar 'Golgotha' the man offered, but more; 'Who are you?' I demanded, feathers ruffled, beak raw 'I am Man's suffering' he answered, before he was cut mercilessly to the floor
None other has spoken to me since that day, They only listen, and rarely stay, Many have recognised me as an omen, but no, Fail to comprehend the meaning of The Crow, They postulate, procrastinate, but ultimately Sacrifice their lives to Fate.
I am Crow. In your world I belong. I am an Old Man, Walking Long
The Crow • Opuss № I