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When the Crows Were White
There was a time
When the crows were white
When all of the men
Fought the good fight
No murders of beast birds
Only murmurs of doves
Tender rain the only thing
To fear falling from above
But innocence is a fragile filament,
Dangerous if not destroyed
And so the missiles hissed with vengeance
The bombs were deployed
Among the wreckage
The crows unearthed obsidian that shines
Chirping became mourning
Evil glint filled their eyes
Reduced to a battalion of thieves
Forever cloaked in black
Reminder of the first thing they stole
The sin they cannot retract
There was a time
When the crows were white
But then one discovered
The concept of flight
They were once cradled sweetly,
Safe beneath ivory latch
But sooner or later
We all have to hatch.
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