Corvidae

One night I found the Seller of Ravens.

Hands tied with exposed wires.

Skull is full of the fireflies.

Enough not to believe in safe havens.

One day I met the Seller of Crows.

We're lying, covered by smoke.

What aid should we invoke?

Our blood flows mixed and froze.

Then I became the Seller of Jackdaws.

Blank stare from under the hood.

Crippled voice, which they understood,

Glossy feathered sly outlaws.

15.12.22