My Little Raven

Written during a 'Dark Night in my Soul.'

 

For many years I thought she was gone,

Then I realized she was still mine.

Being told by a friend, that no one could

Take her from me: I thought he was wrong.

But life went on with out her.

Like a cracking glass - in the oven

My mind was shattered - at the loss

Of my little Raven.

Staring at the clock wondering what she was doing,

Pondering the way things should have been.

My mistakes, like gangrenous pus running down my soul,

Would choke the hope out of me.

Depression, opening doors to see,

fighting internal wars.

I had others to love, but they too

Were victims of my obsession.

Now there gone as well.

It has been said that time heals,

Yet the hour glass runs slow for me.

Reviews

[Kenny L. Mitchell]

The beautiful thing about night is that it hides things we are not willing or prepared to express. We just have to remember that no matter or disabling or compelling the darkness may seem to us it will eventually end. I like this piece. I think you have a marvelous talent and I pray you continue expressing it. Nice job!

[Fanciful Goddess]

Very good beautiful ,meaningful.depression dose open doors to internal wars.I know how depression fills.
It hurts makes u wanna die. AMAZING POEM!!!!!

[Tiffany]

Little Raven is a nickname for one of my children.

[RYGON MASK]

Who is the "little raven" ???

[Disturbed mind]

"I had others to love, but they too
Were victims of my obsession."

wow...really deep...

[Anynomus]

wonderful i love it

[sierra_beautiful]

this is very dark, but very beautiful, i love it!

[Glenna.]

I really like this! Your sense of description is Phenomenal!
"Like a cracking glass - in the oven
My mind was shattered - at the loss..."

"My mistakes, like gangrenous pus running down my soul,
Would choke the hope out of me..."

You sure have a knack for that! :)

[Gabi Celaya]

Does glass crack in an oven? Fancy that....
"My mistakes, like gangrenous pus running down my soul," So far as word choice is concerned, this is definitely your poem's volta. The word "gangrenous" appears out of nowhere and took me completely by surprise, then you hammer the point home with the word "pus".
Your poem runs quite slowly thanks to your use of punctuation at the end of most of the lines (that's not a criticism, I'm just commenting on the effect you've created)
There's a typo on the sixth last line, first word should be capitalized, I suspect.