Crow days

 It took me everything I had

Every nerve was strained

And as I sorted good from bad

I saw the clouds outside that rained

It was a fire in the morning

And a life that's half constrained

But if you want freedom here's my warning

Only dead men can be unchained

The tires are burning on the tide

The crisp frost's on the hawthorn

Blackberries turn a darker shade

By the water droplets churning

And if you think that you are free

Then I must pass to you this message

That even the birds who fly can't be untied

From their skyward passage

The farmer toils in his field

He moves his bones and muscles

Each sinewy strand of fibre burns

With every turgid tussle

His Solar panels reflect like a mirror to the sun

But even that gigantic globe

Can't move from the path it runs

And I ask the crow how does his life blood flow?

Black or red or mauve, from the bullet in the sun

And who said the dead can't go

Where they midnightly run

Led by that black clothed friend

Who each day shoots the sun

The wind rustles leaves with invisible muscles

Branches askances and ash keys are

broadcast seeds

I struggle to know the good or the bad

And the archer walks past my window

The windrows blow like hair styles

The archer raises his bow

And fires straight his arrow

Into the marrow, into the heart of the crow

She falls, she falls

Like a silence, falls like a fragment of sun

The sun bird so black of wing

Shining like the barrel of a gun

And behind her the torch burns out brighter

As the crow falls dead on the ground

And the parliament stops all its conspiring

And the kingly sun wears proudly his crown