The Crow Poem by Lonnie Hicks

I have sat the wily beast
rode in the darkest night
eaten from the trough
of death;
lay down
and kissed
Evil's Lips.

Found myself screeching at night
distended hopes
lying all around;
and witch-like
cackles all in my ear
coming from
my own throat.

I rely upon
artifice
dark clothing
and obscured intent
to pluck weaknesses
from other's heart
upon which
I then feast.

You can hear the flapping
of my Crow's Wings
as I light
upon the next house
in the dead of night
silent, skulking
as my eyes pierce
chimney down
to see
just who is home
and who is gone.

And then
I drop
my cargo;
it lands inside the fireplace
to burn like incense
to infest the house;

but suddenly
my throat
runs dry
my Crows eyes fog
I dropp down
dead;
killed by
by laughter
below
and a Christmas Tree
which lit me aflame.