The Ravens

High above the grey sky
the ravens fly. 
As I’m being carried to the stake
I can’t help but tell my self, this is fate.
The ravens that are high
are also the ones who’s ashes went to the sky.
Watching over, watching over.
Waiting to see who will be next to join them.
As I get closer to the stake, I see its’ nothing but a stem.
My ashes will soon cover the sky.
The people will watch through their own eyes.
As another person is burned by their fate. 
Another raven joins the flock.
As they squeak out their “caws”
Giving a little mock.
The villagers will never know
That soon someday, they’ll met their fate as well. 
Pecked to the bone,
just as I was burned to the bone.

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