In midnight's grasp, a raven took flight,
Its ebony wings adorned with sorrow's might,
Through veils of darkness, it soared alone,
A haunting presence, to worlds unknown.
Its onyx feathers whispered tales of woe,
Echoing through the night, a mournful show,
With piercing eyes, a gaze that could pierce the soul,
It sought solace in the shadows' endless scroll.
Its mournful cry, a dirge of the heart,
Unveiled secrets, tearing worlds apart,
A harbinger of darkness, it perched on high,
An omen of doom, with a mournful sigh.
The raven's caw echoed in the moon's embrace,
Unfolding mysteries with each somber chase,
Its wings, a shroud, concealed the night's lore,
A creature of darkness, forevermore.
Yet, amidst the shadows, a glimmer of light,
A flicker of hope, a chance to set things right,
The Raven danced on the edge of despair,
A symbol of resilience, in the midnight air.
So, let it fly, with its tales untold,
A guardian of secrets, a sight to behold,
For within its ebony guise, hope remains,
The Raven's journey, a testament to change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem