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Crimson runs 
across the heavens
the sun bleeds 

time stands still
upon the tufted spurs
platinum blonde grass

a raven mourns 
the hourglass is empty

when the sands run out
life ends with a gasp
a bated breath
the Reaper waits
dusk falls. 

Written for Quadrille #171: Poetry is a kind ofย Gasp for dverse Poetics
Thanks for reading ๐Ÿ’•


Published by Aboli Mane

Poet. Writer. Blogger. I post short reads, and poetry on A Writer In The Room. I published my debut poetry book "An Aster's Solitude" in 2019. Currently: Writing my first novel, an animal fantasy in a fictional world. Follow me to keep yourself updated.

24 thoughts on “Raven

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