Changing day into night, when they all take flight.
Somber and defiant, boisterous and annoying.
Singing songs of dirge, when they come to merge.
Hated and scorned, mysterious and haunting.
Lurking high overhead, carrying souls of the dead.
Clever and crafty, suspicious and jeering.
Will we ever know the Raven or Crow?
Or, truly understand Edgar Allen Poe?
~ Anonymous