Ravens circling,
round and round;
I walk in despair.

Looking down,
stones and rocks,
dusty and dry;
A morbid figure
I am,
as I walk by.

Creatures of the night
follow me closely;
I am their prey.

and weak.
No life.
No will to live.

Waiting to fall,
then the bite of the beast
will grab me
and rip me apart;
At least
it will hurt less,
than the ripping
of my heart.