There was a time
When the crows were white
When all of the men
Fought the good fight

No murders of beast birds
Only murmurs of doves
Tender rain the only thing
To fear falling from above

But innocence is a fragile filament,
Dangerous if not destroyed
And so the missiles hissed with vengeance
The bombs were deployed

Among the wreckage
The crows unearthed obsidian that shines
Chirping became mourning
Evil glint filled their eyes

Reduced to a battalion of thieves
Forever cloaked in black
Reminder of the first thing they stole
The sin they cannot retract

There was a time
When the crows were white
But then one discovered
The concept of flight

They were once cradled sweetly,
Safe beneath ivory latch
But sooner or later
We all have to hatch.