One crow, sorrow. Two crows, joy. Three crows, a letter! Four crows, a boy...Five crows, silver. Six crows, gold! Seven crows, a secret never to be told...
Counting Crows
I saw you last night
Gasping for air…
Was it that you were dying?
Hung with your own hair…
The tree was right behind you
Carved upon it a name,
Forgotten tale of lore,
Useless premonitions,
Useless are not you all?
I felt your cold hand in the middle of the night
Your touch I could not bear,
Your shadow moved as the moon,
Drown behind you in despair…
Seek not my voice in your dream
Seek not to feel me, not at all,
Seek not to gaze into abyss,
Seek not my face before your fall…
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