Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
The Crow
I have sat the wily beast
rode in the darkest night
eaten from the trough
of death;
lay down
and kissed
Evil's Lips.
Found myself screeching at night
distended hopes
lying all around;
and witch-like
cackles all in my ear
coming from
my own throat.
I rely upon
artifice
dark clothing
and obscured intent
to pluck weaknesses
from other's heart
upon which
I then feast.
You can hear the flapping
of my Crow's Wings
as I light
upon the next house
in the dead of night
silent, skulking
as my eyes pierce
chimney down
to see
just who is home
and who is gone.
And then
I drop
my cargo;
it lands inside the fireplace
to burn like incense
to infest the house;
but suddenly
my throat
runs dry
my Crows eyes fog
I dropp down
dead;
killed by
by laughter
below
and a Christmas Tree
which lit me aflame.
poem
by
Lonnie Hicks
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black