Death of the sky

Sits a lonely soul
upon the wooden cross
there with lonely eyes
untill morning sun is lost

his heart beats are a hollow
at the wind blows through the grain
the moon light is a rising
as his bodys filled with pain

he knows nothing of thw world
for it does not know him
the world had judged him way to soon
and for that is called a sin

streotyped and a look
disscarded at a glance
his eyes are black and hollow
to put us in a trance

our heart beats are a racing
when his wings beat by
we oftern think that he is
the death amongst the sky

the crow is nothing bad
but a simple creature of the air
his life was taken from his grasp
and it simpley wasnt fair