A single crow
perched high above me,
cries and screams
for the one thing it cannot have.
You are that crow.
In your lonely sleep,
and cold heart,
you cry for a saving grace,
While they sit around and wait
for your death.
Like the screaming teapot you breathe
and the so called "gurgle of death".
Love to a female you would not show
(except to three).
I pray that God will forgive you
for the love you would not show.
And I pray that He'll have mercy
on you here and
on your soul.
I may not see you after death
but you will always be like that crow
that screams for the one thing it cannot have,
as you are screaming for your salvation.
