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Moonlight tonight, creeps its way
through trees long forgotten,
dead and frail;

A ruffle in the leaves,
lay dry on the ground,
where the raven lands softly, with a crunchy sound;

He brings me word,
this night of the moon,
says he’s been flying many a noon;

A note on his leg,
tied with a bow,
he lifts it up, this smart little crow;

As I take it out,
he flies away;
Disappears in the crisscross of the darkness and moon-rays;

I unfurl it with a sigh,
wondering aloud,
“Who’d send me a message?” for I know none here about;

This tiny piece of parchment,
that I now hold in my hand,
turns out, the piece of paper, “It’s blank.”

and I awaken with a smile,
this dawn in my lair,
I wish to thank the raven, for visiting my nightmare;

A dream it is where you spread your wings,
my friend, my love,
Thank you for caring.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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