Candle Burns Low

As the candle burns low. A crow asks from my shoulder pointing at the candle holder,"Bright or dim my young friend? For the sands flow slow." He flew from a tree i did not see. He flew just over my shoulder till the time was right to whisper his quandary. For i felt his eyes on my soul. Tearing at it leaving its hole. I knew this stare well. From the dead faces I have seen. Staring from around a corner nobody can see but me.

I awake for it is not the sands of time for me. Its the drip drop of modern medicine. I can flee to a med bed. fly high through time and space. As i to lace myself to a single being long enough just to see the crow on the window sill. Just staring his holes in me.

So I flee to the sea and sail many miles to see new lands. far from this hell and pain. I start my return under sail. When out of a gail the crow lands flapping his tail. He loughs "You ran, you fought, you sailed away! Only to come right here to meet me today"