Death Nesting - Corvid Blues

Black wings gather on the marble and moss, Croakin’ their gospel of sorrow and loss. Perched on the headstones, callin’ my name, Ravens don’t whisper, they scream the same pain. Crows on the tombstones, singin’ the blues, Every cry’s a sermon the mourners refuse. Ravens in the graveyard, shadows they weave, The corvid blues don’t lie, they don’t leave. I follow their voices through the fog and the rain, Every feather drippin’ with yesterday’s pain. The sky turns darker when they circle above, Carryin’ the secrets the dead never spoke of. Crows on the tombstones, singin’ the blues, Every cry’s a sermon the mourners refuse. Ravens in the graveyard, shadows they weave, The corvid blues don’t lie, they don’t leave. They don’t bow their heads, they don’t kneel to pray, They just guard the silence till the flesh decays. Where the hymns fall silent and the Bible won’t do, The crows keep singin’ the gospel of truth. So let the bells toll, let the mourners go home, I’ll sit with the corvids where the dead lie alone. Their black wings rising, my sorrow they keep, In the graveyard’s choir, where the shadows sing deep. Crows on the tombstones, singin’ the blues, Every cry’s a sermon the mourners refuse. Ravens in the graveyard, shadows they weave, The corvid blues don’t lie, they don’t leave. When the bells stop ringin’ and the mourners are gone, The corvid choir keeps singin’ on. From grave to grave, from bone to stone, They carry the sorrow no man can own.