Soul Demise Crows Gown
It's black, as coal
The language of silence
The nothingness, dark as the crow's gown
The feather of the crow falls dumb and quietly down
In the grass you are laying in
It's black as coal
To be afraid and intrigued at the same time
To look at the moon
To catch the beams with your eyes
To protect you against the nothingness
The wind plays the song of your innocent soul
Your true self is painted on your face
It's grown pale by the moonlight
The soft vibration of the grass
Will be reflected by your hands
A tear will show happiness and fear
A symbol of their own captivity
