Feverish Tongues

I swear I saw the lights flickering
Somewhere I hear the ravens bickering
“Who’s going to tell him?”

My blood is warm my heart is quickening
The short strawed raven now is beckoning
Through, into the curtains

The wind won’t blow the trees are whispering
They hush whenever I start listening
There’s something here I must be missing it

From your
Feverish tongues
Comes no grace
Spark no flames

Towards your
Reaper I’ve run
Blind ashamed
Of your hate