Raven Hours

The stream reflects a midnight glow

The jagged trees and how they grow

They twist and coil so statue like

Conspiring together on all they dislike

But twelve ungodly chimes change all

When the magic takes over from daylight’s fall

A murder of silhouettes descend silently on natures towers

For now we dwell in the Raven hours

The sun has gone to hell

It hides away while the moon speaks of kiss and tell

My imagination is so alive as I walk in solitude

With thoughts that gorge on this evenings food

And the inspiration consumes all I am

A darkened version of a better man

Wandering through the dark with oily raven wings

Listening to the night, and oh how it sings

I stop and stare into the neon psychedelic grey

Enthralled by the chaos theory that paves my way

The full moon reveals its nocturnal shrines

While it pulls tide and temper from their confines

Unsettled oceans distressed by their magical sphere

Are thrown from beach to cliff to beach in fear

Silhouettes dance through flame for the moonlights game

While I sit and slug bourbon with a familiar name

Until a new battle begins

The moon gets shunned for its darkened sins

and the cats, the bats, the rats all fade with the nearing light

And I pull down my shades and with dawn I will fight

Until the sun burns a hole into another day

and the streets change to a brighter shade of grey

The city becomes distressed with traffic, rabble and disarray

But I’ll be gone with the ravens and the hours where I play

Copyright Notice © Richard Withey. All rights reserved.