The Raven


when the raven calls at night
on the precipice of dreams and nightmares
do you succumb
relinquishing to darkness, one by one your foot steps
not adhering to the craggy ground
as you fall ever deeper into your singular mind

searching for an ending
tumbling ever forward, no ability to secure sanity
that once prevailed, clinging to the present
no doors for your escape
guessing what is real and what is not
overpowering bad considerations, scream loud
not to be defeated

bloodied scratching fingernails, asylum arms
grasping from all sides convincing you you're safe
"come with me", they whisper echoing in your ears
would it ever be ~ where is your sanctuary
are lines defined, the misinterpreted voices that you hear
cast fears aside, do not fall into the cavity

when the raven calls

©jmtacken Dec 2013

Photo Credit Pin Dark Forest Night Image on Pinterest

26 thoughts on “The Raven

  1. I am reminded of this line from Macbeth, when Lady Macbeth is contemplating the arrival of the King Duncan to her castle:
    “The raven himself is hoarse
    That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan”

    • they are? Goodness Willow not a parakeet or dove?? Yes dark it was meant…and the dark shall prevail (rubs hands together and snickers) Thanks lovely. 🙂 xxx

  2. Where I grew up, we had crows and ravens. I had a personal crow who woke me summer morning. He would caw and caw till I wanted to wring his little neck but couldn’t because he was high up on a tree branch. Now, I agree crows and ravens are interesting but symbolize creepy goings on.

    Your poem is definitely well defined by raven intrigue.

  3. nice…you went all dark today…this one not so much as the other…when the raven calls…we’ve had black birds on campus at school here of late…and being a poet have wondered at their symbolism…here’s to hoping i am not scratching any asylum doors any time soon…smiles.

    • they have always been associated with evil and eerie – it’s their ‘cawing’ that drives me nuts… I hope you aren’t scratching either ~ anywhere~ chuckles – thanks for reading Bri.

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