Lucian Crow Poems

The Calling

She's bearing a viscious featus
descendent from a distant past
it holds an ancient secret
the curse will unfold at last... more »

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the screams loud
the bodies many
the armed among us
the enemy is in disguise... more »

Sorrow's Gift

The room is silent, the door is closed
the shades are drawn to block out the sun,
yet the the effect of the sun on the shades gives the room an orange glow
he sits on his bed, in a world of his own... more »

Lucian Crow Quotes

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