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The Crow Reapers
Awoken from my nightmare, hesitantly, I crawl out of bed.
I reach for the tepid glass of water on my nightstand,
hoping it will calm the torment of my slumber.
I pace the frigid floors of this desolate room.
Only a shrill tap breaks the silence of my flustered state.
Tink, Tink– the window pane vibrates slightly.
Gazing out the frosted window, my expression stiffens.
A swarm of crows circle chaotically against the night sky,
their screeching shrieks ring in my ears.
My eyes glued to the blackened flock, I am paralyzed.
I know these treacherous crows.
They unsettle my composure as each bird swoops towards me.
My mind swarming, I suddenly remember their familiarity.
Those crows have a malevolent desire.
For from my nightmare crawls the crows, here for my soul.
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On Study for the Dream by Will Barnet