In the stillness of the twilight hour,
Crows gather, cloaked in mystery and might,
Their eyes like embers, glowing with power,
Guardians of secrets cradled by the night.

With wings that slice through the evening air,
They dance on winds that whisper tales untold,
Their cries echoing in the night’s cold lair,
A symphony of stories, both new and old.

Perched upon the branches, high and proud,
Their silhouettes etched against the fading light,
They watch the world beneath, a moving cloud,
Veiled in the tapestry of the deepening night.

O silent watchers, keepers of the dusk,
In your shadowed flight, a timeless grace,
With every beat of wings, in you we trust,
To guide us through the dark’s embrace.