Kyle Linford

Caws and Cackles

I sing the Songs of Crows
Dark and dreary verse
Harsh and brass
A shout, a screech
Echoing in the spines of bystanders
Ringing in the heads of bastards
Quivering the loins of beasts
But how would the inner drum beat
Without my call?
How would you tell beauty
Without my ugly?
How would you live
On provincial ornaments
Without my ring of truth?
Truth of light
What this darkness hides
Darkness as black as my crown
For what’s there in the night
Can be seen in the day
I sing the Songs of Crows

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