The Crow

There is a crow that always follows me: A master of shadow— His dark black wings full of mystery and evil; His cunning dots for eyes. Always watching; always waiting… And even when I fall asleep, he waits For me there; to peck out my eyes Until I have two little black holes, just like him. So we are one in the same, this crow and I, But I do not want to be. Why should I be a crow, forced to taunt? Some hypocrite I would be. This crow Is a master of shade. He wants me to join his murder, For we are one in the same: Him and I.