The Fair Raven (Poem)

For many years one would lay their head
and pass beyond as they rested
“to a better place” they would say
ignorant of what became
instead of sanctuary, a home high or low
thieves and kings would reconvene
in the darkness somewhere in between
there was no justice for the dead.

They were cold and hot and warm and frozen
sat upon solid ground but were floating in a void
the world was black and shreds of white
the world was white with shreds of black
a man who died to protect his child
spent eternity with the woman
whom plunged him with knife on the way to his son
and for it, she had lost her head
eternity spent with the one who killed him
there is no justice for the dead.

But what once was darkness became a candle
an emptiness turned guiding light for vagrant souls
and whether heaven or hell be destination,
the candle ferried them through the black and white
the candle ferried them through the white and black
yet approaching it they saw no candle
instead a woman, tall and fair
the darkest night was her hair
but sol’s grace painted upon her smile
a voice like rays of light upon one’s cheeks
but a stare like shards of darkness piercing facade
“come to me and rest thy heads
for there shall be justice for the dead”

The murder-wench approached and said
“if there be justice for the dead
then you shall send me somewhere good
for I, truly, have done no wrong”
from the fair lady’s back sprouted a pair of wings
one was black with shreds of white
one was white with shreds of black
it was the black that she held out
and then for the hag a hole had opened
with a bottom she would never see
“all who believe themselves good and wrong
there is place for you here, now come”
and there was justice for the dead.

The selfless man was left til’ last
watching all the others pass
“i have waited long, now please fair lady
I must see my son once more”
in glimmering rays the lady had smiled
not mocking and not gentle
merely genuine, merely real
“this is the place where all dead go
did you see his face among them”
he answered “no.”
and she gave justice for the dead.

in a whisper was a name she’d spoken
and a promise he kept locked in heart
within that moment his eyes had opened
his son before his body once limp
hopelessly applying bandage to a dead man
before the selfless one reached out
with a hand of white with shreds of black
“father I had thought you gone”
“my son I was, you saw me bled
a knife protruding from mine head
but in the void I had seen
a fair raven whom lost souls call queen
now join me, we have work to do"
the man had said
“for there is justice for the dead”

The Fair Raven (Poem)

Roads to the North Cpeepers