In the velvet cloak of night, they soar,
Shadows against the moon’s soft light,
Whispering secrets of ancient lore,
In haunting calls that pierce the night.

Beneath the stars, their wings unfold,
In a dance both eerie and grand,
Guardians of tales untold,
They traverse the silent land.

With eyes that glint like onyx gems,
They watch with wisdom deep and old,
As mysteries the darkness stems,
In their flight, stories are told.

O crows, of midnight’s mystic choir,
Sing your song of twilight’s grace,
In your presence, we aspire
To glimpse the secrets of this place.