This is the time,
the night,
the wretchedness,
the vile,
the flight,
the soaring of the raven,
high above a long forgotten battlefield,
the signal of the approaching enemy,
with nobody left that understands,
he flies high,
puzzling at everyone,
as they stare at the raven,
as he soars,
higher and higher,
circling,
signaling,
over and over,
and then..
theres nothing,
everything frozen,
people where they stand,
wind itself,
silenced by the encroachment,
the signal now forgotten,
without a glance back,
the raven flies,
away from the battlefield,
away,
from the petrified,
lost souls,
who long forgot,
what he was warning them of,
the raven flies,
out of the night,
out of sight,
out of time..
DeathLies Community Member 
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