The Bones of Boats and Butterflies

Crows

A black crow stands in the snow
it's feathers shaking from the cold
Look into its onyx stone eyes
It opens its beak
It lets out a cry

You're standing alone in barely born light
The snow's at your heels
and everything's white
The land and the sky
they went with the wind
You're lost to the weather
to stew in your sins

The crow, it hops forward
and turns its head round
Three-hundred and sixty
Your feet freeze to the ground
The wind starts to howl
clouds cry frozen tears
The demon crow moves
It feeds on your fears

You can't look away
body heavy as lead
As a statue you stand
you can't move your head

The crow hops again to land on your toes
to shelter itself from bitter white snow
It ruffles its feathers
Looks you in the eye
and opens its beak to let out a cry

"Beware," it says "of thoughts you have shunned
all the terrible things that can't be undone
Beware of the spectre dressed in a black cloak
with a scythe that he wields to hold at your throat
Beware of his truths
more vile than lies
and never
never
look him in the eye
They're filled with the soul searing screams of the dead
the heart stopping wails that'll infect your head
they'll echo in dreams
they'll never let go
So beware, you human, of walking in snow,"