A Forlorn Tree stands in the distance
Far, but still in brilliance.
A rope hangs from one branch
And a raven from another.

CAW cried the darkness
With a sharp harshness.
“Death to Death.” It screeched
As it seemed beseeched.

“But how?” I asked to no response
So I waited with a small danse.
“Death to Death!” It screeched once more
“But how!?” I cried evermore.

The raven grew silent for hours more
Saying one thing, “Nevermore.”
I sighed and ranted
But little good did it do.

I walked to the Tree
With the Moon so close and here.
I feared it’d be ripped if it came too close
Too close to the Forlorn Tree.

The Tree was black and dead
Which inevitably filled me with dread.
The raven looked at me with it’s piercing gaze
“No more!” I cried, fearing I’d be set ablaze.

Still it watched me
Despite my plea.
“Why must you screech so terribly?”
“Death to Death.” Was the last  thing it said before falling and speaking no more.