About a raven on the prowl

Black and white spreads the canvas
The weary night hums in the twilight

Perched on arms of the earth, such prowess
The raven she croons at all other's plight

Drenched in blood her mind never wanders
Propelled by need she slices the night

A feast has been thrown in her honour
Ungrateful hosts, be gone and take flight

Do they not know that they are mere fodder
Her wit so blessed, since birth it is her right

Her meals made, she need not even bother
Dotting over young, since one day their will is might

The End

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