Words and wings


Raven’s wings are fragile things
Swooping through towers of ancient Kings
On battle grounds alight and shriek
Fragile things need not mean weak.
  
Words can wound and words can heal
And cross the borderline of what is real
In lands of cross legged pixies wait
Do Gods or words determine fate?

Eruptions of the odd
Are but the makings of the soul
Are you with Lucifer or God?
Is the wish to sin or win your goal?

Lives, like months pass by each year
October, December, September, November,
Each year the same, yet stories new
Of what is False and what is True.

Ghosts are neither here nor there
But anywhere and everywhere
And travel through the worlds in mute
And travel not the usual route

Let the silence blossom on your tongue like language
Let the red door knocker lie unused
Let the Norse Gods steal your thunder
Let the new Gods be accused.

Raven’s wings are fragile things
Swooping through towers of ancient Kings
On battle grounds alight and shriek
Fragile things need not mean weak.