In the shadows of ebony wings they soar,
Through twilight’s veil, their cries implore,
A symphony of echoes, ancient lore,
Whispers of secrets, forevermore.

Beneath the moon’s pale, silvery glow,
They gather where the wild winds blow,
Silhouettes in the night, a mystic show,
Guardians of the dark, their presence bestows.

On branches bare, they find their perch,
Watching the world, in silent search,
Eyes like coal, in shadows they lurch,
Harbingers of tales, in the night’s cold church.

When dawn breaks and the sun ascends,
They vanish into the horizon’s bends,
Leaving behind whispers, the night transcends,
The crows return, as the day ends.