Though the Raven is a symbol

of deaths snarling face, though

he carry omens while creeping

through clouds of white,

even He fears the poet,

gazing in the forest to the tune

of gentle streams trickling.

For if menacing caws of

the black winged beast

prove too distracting,

the poet may very well

blast that fuckers wings off

and return to visions of

lilacs and lilies singing:

"leave Never. see More."

Isolated. Exiled. Alone.

These feelings eat at me.

Like a tear in my heart that can't be sewn.

It torments me as I walk through this world,

In a sea full of souls.

To never feel a part.

To never feel at home.

To see the words being spoken,

But the meaning of the words never being known.

To see a glimmer of hope,

But the destination never being near.

To have lost so much before.

The idea of losing again no longer striking fear.

I clinch to whatever identity I have left.

A victim of self sabotage,

Protecting what remains of my heart from theft.

Maybe I'm just misunderstood.

Asking those who barely know,

To see me in a way they never really could.

Always willing to let them take from me,

But never asking if they ever should.

They all run and hide,

Whenever it is I light the way.

I'm left alone with no one by my side,

Even on the darkest of days.

I am a bringer and taker of life.

I'll shed my tears for you,

As I struggle with my internal strife.

Won't anyone be my friend?

Take to heart this messages of mine,

To not look at me with disgust,

Like just another one of your trends.

You never ask me for my name,

It sits on a shelf,

Covered in dust and never worn.

You make me out to be a monster,

Only calling me out as just another storm.