The Revelations of Crow

So many things wrap into one, as my sins disintegrate behind me. I leave unmarked treads on pavement that I will never again visit. What has become of me, in this desolate place I call home? I am something foreign to myself, but none-the-less, something I enjoy. I wish to fly to a better place, but my heart tells me that is not an option, rather to save those, those who are even less fortunate than I. Those who are soon to begin there fly. Should those natives not have one they can call their own to protect them? Protect and defend, in their otherworldly home.

Those who create us, we all own up to them. We owe them life as they have given us, but some don’t deserve to rejoice in what we have to offer. That is why my path leads away from my sanctuary in the sky and farther down to a place unknown. I come in a quiet hush, undetected by pitiful mortals. In a gritty, dark city I perch on fire escapes and climb over rusty gateways to watch as those mortals, who seem so innocent to the untrained crow eyes, destroy those of their own. Dressed all in black, with hollow midnight eyes I blend into my surroundings, and when I don’t . . . I am mistaken for an apparition.

Decisions are meant to be made, and how I came to the decision to protect my children is unknown. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter how I arrived at my enthralling conclusion, but more that I did so on the first night in the other-world. My first lonely night was spent sharing pieces of the weaker mortal’s tragedies, so much evil in a world that is mistaken for good. Rapes, murders, and brutal beatings are a few of the nightly nightmares that happen on the shadowy sides of already darkened streets.

Now my boots click and splash through damp streets as I go looking for the evil in the world. Why should I, an immortal, not help my children? My life was already taken from me, and I hate to see my past kin live as I do now.

A man brandishing a knife at a helpless woman, who thinks she has been condemned to her death. How wrong she may yet prove to be. I watch from the shadows as he approaches his pray. In the distance he hears boots ... clicking ... towards him. He knows what it is, he’s heard of the rumors that are whispered on the streets. A nameless fear is haunting his kind, and tonight it has come for him. So ironic, that one of is own has turned to hunt him.


“Absent of grace, marked as infernal
Ungrounded in dead time left me disowned
To this nature, so unnatural
I remain alone”