I’ve been caged all my life.
Waiting and growing incubating in strife.
With the slightest flutters of my glossy black wings
I wait until the day they can stretch out and sing.
I listen intently for the unmistakable sound.
Blaring horns and the baying of the hound.
The time has come and I will not be kept hidden any longer.
The Great Raven black, winged and full of death is stronger.
The prayers for the humble meek light in me have withered away.
Now the black force of nature has burst forth ready to play.