Old man sits with his back to the wall
A clear view of his surroundings; doors, windows
There is nothing left up to chance not even ghosts from his past
Black crow’s cage hangs from a hook in the ceiling
And when the wind whistles it sends a chill across the marsh
One doesn’t have to wonder or think out loud, they simply drift off
While I walk the dunes late into the night; every step
Feels like another unknown, yet a familiar place – my home
Black crow’s cage swings in-sync with the wind
The tide shifts kicking up sea foam; it glistens
Starlight magic bouncing around like a ball in the surf
My heart feels nothing, yet my chest aches if I think about you
And I don’t miss you; I do, but I don’t…but I guess I do
Old man pushes his chair away stands by the window
Watching the clouds “Storm’s a comin” he mutters
Black crow kraa with delight as the scent
Of an empty heart flutters in the wind
I leave only my footprints in the sand

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