Blank page A self imposed curse Scrawling thoughts To write for what? Crow Lands searching in the dirt with the stare Its black eyes something writhing Reared neck and horrible laugh Stones turn veering into vision What doesn't blink can't dream It wants my eyes to see. Black Beak weapon to pierce Delirium scribbles thoughts onto page Something's writhing. Writhe! (X2) Wings spread A plague, doctor It stabs towards my view It wants my eyes to see this Hands alone Fail to counter-attack My pen this make shift daggar Thrust under the wing, blood drips onto my page Randon splatters onto white Falling back Reared back soaked in red Black bird stumbling through air Piece of flesh in my eye What's not mine doesn't hurt With clenched eyes I pull Bit by bit it falls...