The Priest of Crows

This is:

The Priest of Crows

Won’t someone rid me

of this

black feathered smoke which

haunts around my bones,

Skulks on my gallows

I have only a little life, after all

Ribcage kirk congregation

Gather

Dead risen, gnashing teeth

Shimmering oyster shells,

Hymns a wail of woes

I want to peck out all the souls

I cannot peck out all the souls

I cannot taste my own.

I am a priest of crows

I call out “blood, your blood!”

To you

Cry out gutturally to you

Murder cold winds howl

Sermon driven low

I’ll set my wings wide on the sky

Wilfully

May my light reach thee:

My trembling words reach thee!

As grieving craws

I want to save all the souls

I cannot save all the souls

I cannot save my own

I want to heal all the souls

I cannot heal all the souls

Scratched is my own

I can no longer hear your prayers

I will no longer hear your prayers

I want to absolve all your sins.

My forgiveness cannot grow

Down a path you chose.

I am a priest of crows

Won’t someone take me

Off this

Gibbet beam, I care for it not.

I am no salvation here.

I am a priest of crows

I have only a little life, after all