Death was a Crowe

Deadset upon thy lunar's glare. A window parched open to the howl that calms whilst claiming ones motions of emotion.

Within a lad stares with a widely glare. As cold air instills and fills. Feel of eerie bumps as thoughts begin to bump.

A soft thump echoes as it ensures his hearing a nearing linger. As a fear wallows, the boys grandmother calls for him from outside the door. As it creeks open all whilst the light is seeping; illuminating. The dark becomes fainted.

The lad was glad for his grandmother had brought a book to perusal as usual. For he knew he could not stay awoken once the pages words were spoken.

As the book opens his Grandmother told him.

Once upon a lonesome gloomy night a lonely light flickers from the candles wicker. Then as the room grows dimmer. A silence grows thinner. Lingering time dissipates just as the flame faces fate. We all become innate. As our hour grows late.

Spoken in a fainted whisper. The lads eye lids hinder to Rem.

Than a loud caw that could make any spine crawling with fear. The boy wakes to hear a near by crow in his windowsill. As the boy is frozen still. His head begins to fill with questions. As the crow mentions his intentions.

The boy comprehends and heads to the sill where the crow stood still. Willing to instill the crows intell. The boy takes one last inhale before he and the crow sails into the nights sky.

They boy flies high. A metaphor for the boy dies and death glars from the crows eyes.