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The Raven


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Black-feathered keeper of secrets,

you perch at the edge of the world,

eyes bright with knowing,

wings heavy with story.


You are neither omen nor shadow,

but a watcher —

the one who remembers

when others forget.


Your call splits the silence,

reminding us that grief and wisdom

often fly together.


Raven, you are not afraid of ruins.

You circle what has burned,

you settle where the ground is charred,

and still you find sustenance,

still you live.


In your wings,

there is survival without apology.

In your flight,

there is the promise

that nothing is wasted —

not even loss,

not even night.

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