Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

A Raven's Cry

by Nassma Al Bahrani

She stood quietly, grave digging
Up on the tree, a raven singing
Looking below, on a dim star's fate
A funeral, like a sad clown's parade

She stood looking down, deep under
Her mood as sharp as sounding thunder
Is this my life now? In a prison of soil?
Her head held high, a princess royal

Though her tears spoke of a past
Death had come for her too fast
And the raven kept singing
Until her ears began ringing

Quiet princess I will help you
We will dig this grave through
The night grew cold, anger froze in time
And the only warmth was moonshine

What had befallen me? she wondered
An army of a dozen, soldiers of a hundred?
She remembered now the night
She had left her castle in plight

Oh Merciful, I now remember you sang me to sleep
As the sword hit my chest and sunk in deep
And the cold fell in and everything went dark
Next moment your light sent shivers like a spark

I have met my fate in the arms of the brave
Now I have no one but myself to save
I will accept your sentence and sleep to your words
And I will string my own music with vibrant chords

She looked up to the raven and bid it farewell
My friend I will leave now but there is no reason to dwell
You should go fly in the wind and sing my story
You are the only raven that will sing of my glory

I bid you a cry and I bid you a kiss
From this young restless heart that you will now miss

Added: 29.04.2011