Ravens

<br>Late last night, about a quarter to twelve<br><br>In the middle of an awful storm<br><br>I took fright at the terrible sight<br><br>Of a raven flying into my room<br><br>My blood ran cold, my heart stood still<br><br>As I pulled the covers over my head<br><br>A minute dragged by as I opened my eyes up<br><br>To find her at the end of my bed<br><br>Then she spoke in a devilish croak<br><br>About herself being one of a score<br><br>And I felt sick at the very idea<br><br>Of dealing with nineteen more<br><br>She said, &quot;look out your window&quot;<br><br>I see a skyfull, I pull a rifle on them all.<br><br>Pink sunrise in the wintry skies<br><br>All warm on the wings of a dove<br><br>She sinks and lands on the back of my hand<br><br>And sings with the voice of love...<br><br>&quot;thoughts made flesh can be beautiful things<br><br>As I am one of the same,<br><br>Fed so well on the best of your dreams<br><br>And the beauty found within<br><br>But those black beasts that you see in the east<br><br>Are scratching on the orchard floor<br><br>At split, sweet fruits and the writhing worms<br><br>That you keep behind the straining door<br><br>Go to the cellar!<br><br>I see the beasts and theyre eating<br><br>Feasting on it&quot;.<br><br>Fill my head with small white flowers<br><br>Help the sweetness heal the sour<br><br>Draw on high religious power<br><br>Free the ravens from the tower.